Meant To Be
by YouSaidForever
Summary: She doesn't believe me, but there's no such thing as 'time heels everything' in this situation. Time will prove her wrong, that's what time will do. I'll always love him. I'm just trying not to think about him for the foreseeable future. -NILEY-
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Miley**

"_There'll be bluebirds over..._"

"We're going to Dorset mom, not to Dover." I interrupt as she launches into another rendition of _'The White Cliffs Of Dover._"

"I know but I can sing, can't I?" She pretends to be hurt.

"It would be better if you stuck to writing," I tease.

She flashes me a grin and I smile back at her from the front passenger seat.

"This is going to be so much fun!" My mom exclaims, reaching for the button on the car's radio. She's about to settle for Radio Caroline so I quickly intervene. Dammit, there's no XFM this far out of London!

"iPod?" I hopefully suggest.

"Get it on, then," she concedes. "Anything to get you in the holiday mood."

"I am in the holiday mood!" I shoot back as I plug in my brand-new blue MP3 player –a present from my parents for my birthday. Mom gives me a discerning look before her eyes are set back on the road.

"I know how disappointed you are that Demi can't come, but you'll still have a good time. Plus, you'll be able to get started on you reading for the university."

"Mmm."

_'Stay Stay Stay_ by Taylor Swift starts to play.

"For goodness sake, Miley, this is making me want to throw up." Mom protests after a while. "I mean it," She tells me after I decided to ignore her. "Something more upbeat, disco perhaps? Just something, please!"

I sigh, but comply. Mariah Carey and Justin Bieber's version of '_All I want For Christmas Is You_' starts belting out from the speakers.

"That's more like it!" She starts to sing again.

"Mo-om." I groan. "Remember the fact that you can't sing, please."

She laughs. "Honey, smiley for crying out loud. You're going to the Cambridge University!"

"University _in_ Cambridge mom, not the University _of_ Cambridge." This feels like the millionth time to correct her. I'm actually going to Anglia Ruskin University but my mom seems to forget that detail whenever she's talking to her friends.

"It's still a big deal, " she says and I don't disagree because it's nice to have proud parents.

But then, not even a minute later she's gone singing off-key again. And you know what they say, if you can't beat them, join' em so I do.

My mom is a writer. She specialises in writing stories about young girls who die in the end of the book. For years she's struggled to make decent money because no one these days wants to fall in love with a character only for it to be dead by the end of the book. And even though her last publication went well, my dad is still the main breadwinner.

He's working at his lawyer firm in London during the week and will be joining us in Dorset over the weekends. It's the middle of July now, and we'll be here until the end of August.

Mom plans on spending these six weeks working on her new book which, to her delight, is being published by a big publication company in September.

As for me, initially I agreed to this long summer break because my best friend, Demi, was going to come too. She's headed off to university in Edinburgh and we're both really sad at the idea of leaving each other.

We've spent the last few years living practically in each other's houses, so this will be the end of an era. We envisaged long, lazy, full of boy-hawking days of summer, in which we'd either sunbathe in the garden or borrow mom's car to go to the beach.

But Demi's mom, Diana, recently discovered her birthmark might not be as innocent as she first thought, and it turned out to be malignant. The shock of it was immense and I still feel absolutely sick at the thought of what my friend and her family are going through.

Diana is having an operation this week to remove it and then she'll have to take some chemotherapy; so it's needless to say, Demi needs to be home right now.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" Mom says. I look out the window at the rolling green hills. "Look aren't those wild horses?" She doesn't wait for my answer. "You could have riding lesions while you're here. And there's a castle not far away from where we're staying. You can catch a steam train that takes you all the way there!"

"I know, mom, you've already told me that. Four times."

"Well, that's gotta be fun, right?"

"Sure." I reply, noncommittally. It _would_ have been fun. If Demi were here. Oh, I hope her mom will be fine...

"You might make some new friends." Mom suggests hopefully, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"I'm not seven anymore," I reply with a wry smile.

"I know, but I have a feeling you'll have a good time." She tries again. I think maybe she's trying to convince herself more than she wants to convice me.

The cottage where we're staying is off the beaten track. It's built out of grey stone, and a small dry stone wall that encloses a grassy green garden at the back. There's a bunch seat out at the front of it in full sunshine and I can already picture myself sitting there and tackling some of my English Lit books.

The place has been recently renovated and it feels quite cosy and homey. Mom puts the kettle on and unpacks the milk from the cool-box while I sit at the kitchen table and look over the manual left by the owners.

My mom is really tall and slim with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. I take after my father's side of the family. I'm much shorter than her, at five foot five inches tall. I have long, wavy dark brown hair. My eyes, although slightly greenish, are exactly the colour of the ocean.

"What does it say in it?" Mom asks as she puts a cup of tea in front of me.

"Pretty much everything we already know." I reply. "Apparently there is a nice walk along the cliff if you go up there," I point to the different direction to the way we came in. "There's also a small diner within walking distance if you head that way." More pointing.

"That sounds promising. Maybe we could go there for an early dinner and then relax in front of the telly for the night?"

We drive to the diner because, despite having sat in a car for almost three hours, neither one of us has the energy to walk.

Our nearest village is lovely. Limestone cottages with painted window frames in shades of blue and green line the streets, and the sea is visible across the rolling hills.

We walk up the steps to the diner. There are grey stone tables and bench seats outside with views towards the sea and we decide to come out here to sit down, but first we head inside to have a nose around, and to order.

I see him almost immediately, the guy working behind the counter. He's a bit taller than me, about a few inches, has curly hair and a silver chain with a dog tag is nestled on top of his muscular chest.

He's pulling a pint of coffee and looking down, but as he glances up his dark eyes momentarily meet mine. BAM! I know how crazy this sounds, but it feels like my heart has just leapt out of my chest and slammed into him.

Then he's looking down again, filling the mug to the brim and carrying it, somehow without spilling a drop, to a middle aged woman at the other end of the bar. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.

Mom snaps me out of it. "He looks to be about your age," she says, gleefully nudging me as she nods in the direction of the unsettling attractive waiter.

"Shh!" I whisper, inwardly cringing and trying –but failing- to tear my eyes away from him as he takes money from the man and pushes it into the back pocket of his jeans.

He comes out way and my pulse quickens.

"What can I get you? A big burly man with short, carefully chipped out hair and enormous moustache steps in front of us. The disappointment is intense.

"A glass of white wine, please," mom asks pleasantly. "Miley?"

"Uh..." My eyes dart back towards the guy, but he's already taking another order. "Ice tee would be great, thanks." The man gets with his job without another wod. He's wearing a homey looking sweater but there is something scary about him that I just can't pinpoint. I wonder if he's the gorgeous guy's father.

He plonks a half-pint glass full of honey coloured water into my hands. Some of it sloshes over the brim, but he makes no apologies, nor does he smile as he requests his money.

I really feel oddly uneasy about him.

"Do you have any menus?" My mom asks him.

"One right here," he tries a gleeful smile but honestly, he doesn't do a very good job at it.

I glance over my shoulder as I follow mom through the door and then I'm outside in the late-afternoon sunshine. We sit down on one of the stone tables.

"This is nice," mom says. "He was a bit tasty." She nudges me again, once more snapping me out of my reverie.

"Mom, no one says 'tasty' anymore." I sound unbothered, even though I'm not.

I try to concentrate while she engages in a conversation, but soon the gentle sound of clinking glass from behind us makes me turn around. I realise with a flurry of nerves that he's there, collecting empty bottles and glasses and plates from recently vacated tables.

"Hello!" My mom calls cheerfully.

Oh, Christ, Mum, _shut up!_

"Alright?" he gives her a vague smile and his eyes flicker towards mine. BAM! That feeling again. It's like I'm made of metal and he's a powerful magnet. What on Earth has gotten into me?

"We're on holiday," mom tells him. "Can you recommend anything nice to do around here?"

"Uhm," he stands upright and thinks for a moment, holding the two glasses he's collected between his fingers. "Have you been to Corfe Castle yet?"

"We've only just arrived," she shrugs and smiles.

He's wearing black jeans and a Harley Davidson T-shirt. My kind of guy.

"Where are you staying?" he asks, glancing at me. I'm unable to speak so, thankfully, mom does.

"In a little cottage over those fields. We're here for six weeks, so if you've got any ideas..."

A dog starts to bark and his head shoots around towards the diner. Almost on cue, the man who served us our drinks before, storms out.

"Nick, how many times do I have to repeat that you have to keep the bloody dog outside?!" he shouts angrily.

_Nick... The gorgeous boy has a name..._ Well, of course he has a name, Miley.

"Coming, dad!" he shouts back wearily. "Gotta take my dog for a walk." He says to us as he turns away.

"Do you want some company?" mom calls after him hopefully, as the annoying nudging arm comes out to play once more. "Miley is desperate to meet people her own age."

"Mom, no!" I hiss, mortified.

He looks at me as my face turns bright red and I would literally give anything for the ground to open up and swallow me. I really don't care, I'm not fussy, I just DO NOT want to be here right now.

"Nick!" the man shouts from the inside, interrupting any reply.

"No, no, it's okay, you go ahead." I manage to splutter.

"Okay. See you around." He quickly makes an exit. My face continues to burn as I bury it in my hands.

"That was so embarrassing!" I screech under my breath.

"Why?" mom asks.

"I cannot believe you just did that!" I groan, shaking my head inside my palms.

"For crying out loud, Miles, he's just a boy." She replies, sounding uppity.

But he's not. He's not '_just a boy'_. Do not ask me how I know this, but somewhere, deep inside, my heart has already started to fracture and I know that Nick has everything to do with it.

**A/N:** Let me just start by saying that I cried after I finished this book. A full on bawling-your-eyes type of crying. Because there is not a story like this out there, and trust me this love story is _remarkable_. That's all I have to say. P.S, I know this is short, but I just think a first chapter is better when it's short and sweet. I hope you all like this as much as I do! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Back at the cottage, I find myself lying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling thinking about _You Know Who._ And then it occurs to me that I might bump into him if he's walking his dog...

I hurry downstairs.

"I'm going to go for a walk."

Mom tears her eyes away from her typewriter and looks up at me. "We can watch some tv together if you'd like?"

"No, don't worry. I really need some fresh air."

The wind has picked up so I tie my hair into a loose bun and slip on my waterproof wallies in case it's muddy. I turn left onto the track and follow a sign that says Church This Way.

After a while, I see another sign for something called Happy Cliff. That sounds good. I carry on walking. There are a few people out and about, and every time I see a dog before its owner I jolt with anticipation. I know I'm being an idiot, but I'm bored; a girl can daydream.

I turn right into a grassy field and make my way along the stone track lined with wild flowers. The sea is visible up ahead; just a shimmering dark blue water in the evening sunlight- and I pause for a moment to breathe in the fresh air.

God, he was gorgeous. I feel nervous at the through of seeing him again, but I'll be dragging mom to that diner tomorrow, whether she likes it or not.

I remember with sudden mortification how she told Nick I was 'desperate' and how I blushed! He couldn't escape fast enough. I instantly feel deflated and I almost decide to return to the cottage, but I've come so far, I may as well go se the Happy Cliff. Whatever the hell that might be.

I pass through a gate and then the path narrows and becomes rockier and steeper, leading me downwards between tall gorse hedges. It's sheltered from the wind here, and then suddenly...

Well, I've never been a nature freak, but the view that I see as I stand on top of the big cliff nearly takes my breath away.

In front of me is a grassy slope which seems to roll away into a sudden stop. To my left, more rolling hills just away at the cliff edge. It's breathtaking, and slightly scary, but I wander a little down the slope and sit on the grass.

No wonder mom chose Dorset as a destination; she should come here to sit and think about her stories.

A big, yellow, shaggy-haired dog bounds past me, coming from the direction of the gorse walkaway. He runs towards the cliff edge and I tense up, but then he turns around and comes my way.

I hold out my hand to him and smile. I like dogs. He rewards me by manically wagging his tail and panting the biggest doggy smile I've ever seen.

"Hello!" I say as I pat him. Our of curiosity I glance behind me to see who's his owner and then... _no way!_ No fucking way!

There he is. Nick. It's bloody Nick! My stomach swirls with Amazonian-sized butterflies as he approaches.

"Elvis!" He shouts with a furious wave of his hand. "Away!"

Elvis, who I'm assuming is the dog, starts to bark like a nutcase before chasing his own tail.

Nick shakes his head with amusement and then Elvis launches himself at me and knocks me backwards.

"Oh, shit! Sorry!" Nick exclaims, rushing over me and dragging his dog off of me. "Down boy!" he shouts at his dog. "Are you okay?" he asks with concern.

"I'm fine," I manage to splutter.

His face breaks into a grin as he looks at me directly. "It's you."

"Yep, it's me." My nerves, strangely enough, have dissipated. Then he collapses down on the grass next to me and I nearly have a heart attack.

"Miley, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Nick."

"Hi," my face heats up so I look at Elvis. "I thought he was going to fall off the cliff."

"It's a steep slope all the way down. There's even a fence at the bottom."

"Ahh, okay then. Elvis is a funny name for a dog. You were a fan?"

"Me? No. My grandfather was, though." Nick reaches across where Elvis is lying down and pats him.

"That's nice," I mumble, feeling embarassed now.

"So you're here for six weeks?" He cranes his neck towards me.

"Yeah," I focus on my chunky black boots. I feel tongue-tied. Come on, Miley, talk or he'll walk! "My mom's a writer." I explain quickly.

"Oh, right. Well that's cool."

"Was that your dad working at the diner?"

He rolls his eyes and pulls up a handful of grass. "Yeah."

"You two don't get on." I say it like a fact, even though it's a question.

He looks across me. His eyes are so dark. "Not really, no."

And then there's that feeling again, that magnet, pulling me in. For pity's sake, I said I was psychic, but at this rate psycho would be more apt.

"Have you lived here for long?" I ask, brushing some remains of grass off my knees. I'm really trying not to act like a crazy person.

"Only since April." He breaks eye contact and I feel an immediate sense of relief. He rests back on his elbows.

"Where were you before?"

"New Jersey, then Cornwall. We've lived in Dorset before, though."

"Wow, you lived in America?"

He nods curtly.

"Well, you moved quite a lot."

"Not by choice," he mutters, turning the tables before I can press him further. "Where do you live?"

"London."

"Which part?"

"West London. Around Paddington. Do you know it?"

"Not really. I don't know London that well, but I'm going to move there soon."

"Really? My heart leaps and then crashes when I remember I'm off to Cambridge in September. I tell him this.

"Are you? Why's that?"

"I'm going to university." His eyes widen. "The former polytehnic," I hurridly explain. "I'm not nearly enough smart for the actual university."

"I'm not smart enough for _any_ university." He replies.

"I'm sure that's not true," to be honest, I feel compelled to say that.

"It is." He shrugs, and stares ahead. "But I'm getting out of here, anyway." He stands up. "I gotta go back. Tomorrow night is _Karoke Night_." He says with derision, "And I've got to come up with the song list. Which way are you going?"

"Back up there?" I scramble my feet and point to the gorse walkaway.

"I'll walk you." Re-_sult_! "You know, seeing as you're desperate for company, and all that." He adds.

I blush, but he elbows me jokily. "Shut up!" I reply and his corresponding laugh fills me with warmth.

He has a grey hoodie tied around his waist and his bare arms are tanned from the rare heatwave we've been enoying this summer. I unzip my waterproof to let some air in, the excercise has warmed me up, too.

We walk side my side as we navigate the rocky path.

I return to our conversation. "This place is so beautiful. Why would you want to leave?"

"Yeah, it's pretty nice, but.. I don't know. I'm leaving as soon as I get a car."

"And you're taking Elvis with you?"

"Of course," he frowns. "I wouldn't leave him with my parents."

"Why do you work for them?" I ask, seeing as they clearly don't get along.

"I can't afford to move out yet, but working pays my rent."

"They make you pay _rent_?"

"Well, I am eighteen. Just," he snorts. "Not that they didn't have me working behind the cash register for a few years before that..."

"Isn't that like, illegal?"

"Yep." He replies bluntly.

I can't imagine my parents to ever charge me to live with them, or putting me to work behind a bar when I was just a kid. Maybe I'm naive.

Elvis runs ahead and we soon catch up to see him trying to drag an impossibly large stick out from underneath a tree. He drops it and growl at it before barking at Nick and wagging his tail.

"You stupid dog," he says, shaking his head. "You can't play fetch with that." Elvis barks again. "Find a smaller one. Go on!"

Nope. Elvis wants that one.

"I'm not throwing it." Nick says, and there is something really endearing about the way he speaks to his dog.

Elvis barks.

"No."

He barks twice.

"Bloody hell," Nick mutters, grabbing one end of the stick while stamping hard on it somewhere in the middle. With a crack, the wood snaps in half. I watch, smiling, as he throws it a hefty distance into the field and a deliriously delighted Elivs bounds after it.

"You softy." I say with a smile.

"Too soft." He glances at me sideways.

"How long have you had him?" I ask.

"About two years. I found him roaming the beach when we lived back in New Jersey. He was just a small puppy then."

"And then what happened?"

"You're going to know my whole life story at this rate," he grins at me and changes the subject. "Alright, then, Brainiac, help me come up with some songs for this stupid contest."

By the time we reach the cottage, I've found out that Nick has the same taste in music as me, and it's been quite amusing to walk back trying to outdo each other with our knowledge of indie rock, British comedy classics and sci-fi flicks.

"I'm going to have to come to this karaoke night now, just so I can win." I say.

He laughs and leans back against the cream-painted wooden gate. My nerves swiftly return. "I haven't finished my list yet. I might put in something like..._Metallica_ to confuse you."

"That would mean you'd actually have to listen to one of their songs. Are you sure you've got the stomach for that sort of research?" I ask drily.

"Actually, no." He stares at me and the butterflies go berserk. "So you're coming then? To the diner tomorrow night?"

"Is that okay?"

He smiles. "Definitely."

I smile back at him. "Cool."

"Right, then. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

We stand awkwardly for a brief moment until he realises he's blocking my way. He leaps away from the gate and then recovers by reaching over and undoing the latch.

"Thanks." I'm still beaming as I pass. "See you tomorrow." I say again as he closes the gate after me.

"See ya," he turns away and clicks his finger at Elvis. "Come on boy."

I stand and watch them until they're out of sight.

* * *

"What do you mean I can't go?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"I'm stating we have to spend some quality time together, and I don't want you running after some guy the whole six weeks of us staying here." My mom takes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with orange juice.

"But mom, we eat breakfast together, and lunch and you should focus on your writing!"

"Miley, I'm done talking about this. You're not going tonight. I'm your mother and I have every right to forbid you from going."

I open my mouth to say something back, but my mother holds her hand up to silence me. "I made myself very clear, young lady. No go get me those magazines I bought the other day from the car." She throws a pair of keys in my direction and I stumble outside without a sweater or a jacket, biting my lip nervously.

Great. Now Nick will think I stood him up, or even worse, that I'm not interested.

I open the car door with full force. I'm just about to reach for the magazines when I hear some rustling behind me. I turn around quickly, and my eyes double their size when I see Nick standing in front of me, with his hands in his pockets.

"Hi." He whispers, looking really nervous.

I stand straight and lean back on the car. "Hey." I say back.

He looks behind him, then back at me. "I'm sorry for barging in like this, but there is something I forgot to ask you earlier..."

I bite my bottom lip. "Nick I have to tell you something." I look at my house then back at Nick.

"What is it?" He asks and I can't help but to notice the slight concern echoing in his voice.

"I can't come tonight." Before he can say anything I quickly say, "I really want to, but I'm not allowed. Mom says we need to have family night."

Nick looks sad for a second but then he looks up with a small smile. "That's okay," He goes to turn around but I catch his elbow in my hand. I blush as I feel his muscle twitch.

"Wait," I call, "you said you forgot to ask me something earlier."

"It doesn't matter anymore." He says sadly and starts walking away. I hurry after him. To be honest, I don't care that I'm pretty much pathetic.

"No, wait. Nick tell me what is it."

He stops and then turns around to face me. "Uhm," He looks down, "I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow?"

I grin. "I'm not." I say hopefully.

Nick looks back up, this time smiling like he won at lottery. "That's great!" He says excitedly, then, probably when he realised his reaction, stumbles a few steps back and nervously slides his hand through his curls. "I mean, I wanted to know if you want to go to Nothe Fort with me?"

_Is this a date_?

"Sure!"

"There's a bus stop at the end of the road. We can catch the bus to the coast and then take the train to the Nothe Fort..." He pushes his hands back into his pockets.

I think he does that when he's nervous. Do I make him nervous? I grin at the thought.

"Is it the underwater train?" I ask excitedly.

"Yeah," he grins.

"I could drive us to the coast, if you'd like? I could borrow my mom's car."

"In that case, you could drive us all the way to Nothe Fort."

"But where's the fun in that?" I smile. "I want to take the train,"

"I want to, too, actually."

"Cool," I feel my lips stretch in a big loopsided grin. I point back to the car. "I gotta get those magazines to my mom. I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Nick matches my grin. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that he turns around and leaves, and just like that I'm repeating yesterday night, watching him until he's out of sight.

I sigh and turn around, collecting the magazines in one hand, and closing the door of the car with other. I whistle as I climb the steps to the porch, and even jump excitedly when I close the door shut behind me.

"Woah, you're in a good mood suddenly." My mom says as she places two cups of hot chocolate on the table.

I shrug, looking back outside with hope glimmering inside me. "I'm going sight-seeing tomorrow." I answer cooly, praying to God my mom won't ask me with who.

"That's good. You could write about that in your essay for the first day in the university." She says as she takes the magazines from my hand.

"Yeah," I reply, biting my lip to stop myself from smiling. "I could do that."

* * *

"I'll get these," Nick says as we approach the ticket booth at the train station.

"No, I've got money."

"Forget it, I'm paying."

So this _is_ a date!

"You'll never be able to afford to buy that car at this rate." I tell him with a small smile that fades when I realise he may well have done this trip with other girls.

"It's not very gentleman-like if I let you pay, you know." He replies, moving forward.

I decide to let it go for a moment. "Have you done this trip before?" I ask awkwardly.

"No, first time."

I don't know why I feel relieved –even if he hasn't taken another girl on this train, he had to have lots of girlfriends in the past. I mean, he definitely looks the part.

The underwater train is already waiting at the station and Elvis bounds forward, pulling hard against the leash in Nick's hand.

"Steady, boy." Nick says to him in a low voice. "He hates being on this thing." He indicates the leash.

I was a bit surprised when I turned up this morning to see Nick waiting on the hill with Nick in tow. I wasn't expecting to have company of the canine kind. I don't mind though. I have a feeling that Nick is a 'love me, love my dog' type of a guy. I don't think I'd stand a chance with him if I couldn't bear his pooch.

I look up at the blue water around us, thinking that I've transported into an another world, as we sit opposite each other, a wooden table seperating us.

I've tied my hair into a loose ponytail as it's quite hot today, and I'm wearing cream shorts and a pale blue shirt.

"So, how come you're not working today?" I ask, leaning back in my seat.

"I told them I'd take the night shift," he replies. "How come you're on holiday with you parents at you age?"

I tell him about Demi, and his amusement dies.

"That sucks."

I called Demi last night. It was a sombre conversation. Her mom is having the operation to remove the part of the skin that is infected this afternoon, so she's nervous. I'll call her later to find out how the operation went.

"Do you have many friends around here?" I ask Nick.

"No. We moved here only a couple of months ago and I don't go to school anymore, so..." His voice trails off. "It's not really worth making friends if I'm going to be leaving."

"Right. You're off to London." I say with a teasing smile. "What are you going to do there?"

He shrugs. "I don't know yet." He says. "Get a job. See what comes up. Where life takes me..."

"That's quite carefree. I couldn't stand that. I'm a planer."

"I can tell."

"Oh really? How so?" I feel slightly offended.

He smiles playfully. "I just can."

"Well, maybe I'll surprise you one of these days." I lean forward.

"Maybe you will." He holds my gaze and my stomach goes all jittery. The feeling intensifes tenfold as the seconds tick by and neither of us looks away, then Elvis shifts position at our feet, distracting us both.

I really need to get a grip on.

We pass through a lot of stations –I forget all of their names, probably because I'm too focused on Nick to really notice anything else –until we reach the Nothe Fort.

"What do you want to do?" Nick asks me as we wander up the street to the town's small centre. "Are you hungry?"

My stomach rumbles in reply, but thankfully he doesn't hear. "I am a bit. Where shall we go?"

"I don't know. It's my first time here too, remember."

"That's right. I can't believe you haven't brought other girls here before now."

He cracks up laughing. "I haven't met any other girls!"

I roll my eyes. "Sure you haven't. You met _me_ pretty quickly."

"Ah, you have that one wrong. Your _mom_ made the intruduction. And then Elvis followed up on it. I haven't lived here long enough to know anyone else."

"What about girls on holiday?" I really don't know where my confidence is coming from to ask him these questions, but talking to him is amazingly easy.

"Summer holidays have only just started."

I immediately feel crushed. That is a low blow. I shake my head, cursing myself for even thinking he _could_ like me.

"I don't mean..." he quickly corrects himself. "I mean no one my age has been around. Girls _or_ guys. Anyway, now that you're here, you can keep me company." He pauses. "If you want to, that is."

He blushes. He actually blushes!

"Of course I do." I say, happily. So it's not just me. "Oh, look!" I point to the small hill. "There's the castle!"

We continue in silence in the direction that I pointed,. People walk by us, and I notice how easy it is to spend time with him.

"What about that cafe for lunch?" I point up ahead.

We enter the cafe and go through the other side, into the garden. I find it breathtaking here. Maybe it has something to do with the guy I'm sitting opposite to.

"So..." I cross my legs. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I ask tantatively.

He glances at me before looking away, but he doesn't answer.

"Did you hear—"

"Yeah," he cuts me off. He sighs. "I have a brother, yeah. And older brother."

"Oh, where is he?" I ask, wondering why he's not the one working at the bar instead of Nick.

"Jail."

"Oh." I make a small 'o' with my lips.

"Yeah. I probably should have told you this before the train left to go back to the coast."

"Why?" I'm confused.

"In case you wanted to get back on it."

"Don't be ridiculous." I brush him off. "Why is he in jail?"

"Because he's a dickhead."

"I mean, what did he do?"

"I know that's what you meant. Sorry. He's been in and out of detention centres ever since I can remember –joy riding, drug dealing, you name it, he's done it. The last thing that landed him in jail was armed robbery."

"Jesus."

"My family is just _great_!" He says sarcastically. "Wanna know the best thing about all of this? My parents think that sun shines out of Kevin's arse."

Kevin, I assume, is his brother.

"Do you have any siblings?" he asks me.

"No."

"You're lucky."

"I never thought that when I was growing up. I was lonely."

"Better to be lonely, then black and blue."

"He beats you up?!" I exclaim, and from the look on his face I know instantly that he didn't mean to reveal this information.

"Here comes the food." He says abruptly. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore –and who could blame him?

"This was a fun day." I say later in the car as I pull over near the diner.

He smiles at me. "It was, wasn't it?" He bites his bottom lip. "Are you free tomorrow too?"

I'm so relieved he asked me that question first. "Yeah I am. What about you?"

"I'm coming your way for a walk if you want to join us?"

'Us' meaning him and Elvis.

"I'd love that."

"Okay, I'll see you around ten thirty?"

"Great."

There's an awkward pause. We both jump as Elvis start to bark furiously at a dog walking past with it's owner.

"I better put him out at the back. I'm already late for work."

"Are you going to be in trouble?"

He cocks his head to one side. "Lets hope not." He climbs out of the car. "See you tomorrow."

I let out a deep breath, and some of the tension that's been inside me all day slowly evaporates. Good tension, not the bad one, but tension nonetheless. And then I check my watch as a feeling of melancholy settles over me.

It's just after six o'clock. That one, two, three... I silently count the hours in my head until I come to ten thrity in the morning.

_Sixteen and a half hours _until I see him again. How am I going to pass the time?

* * *

**A/N:** I know this is still kind of boring, and pretty fast forward, but the next chapter is better, and this is not the important part of the story, that's why it's rushed. I see that you guys are not as much interested in this story as you were in 72 Hours.. I hope you change your mind soon, because I really think this story is remarkable, but anyway I'm thinking about starting a new story, plus this one, of course, and tell me what you think about that?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"She's trying to be brave, but we all know she's in lot of pain."

"I'm really sorry, D." I murmur. I'm on the phone with Demi who's at the hospital. "How's your sister holding up?" I ask. Demi has just one sister; Taylor. She's older than us by a year.

"I don't know. She doesn't talk about it, and she barely comes out of her room when we're at home."

"She's dealing with it in the only way she can."

"But she's shutting us out, Miley. That's not really a good thing considering there is a big chance our mom dies!"

I sigh. "Demi, don't talk like that."

"Look, Miley fuck being positive. My mom has cancer. Life sucks. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna shut myself in my room and won't talk to my family. They need me, Miles and I as sure as hell need them."

"I wish I could give you a big hug." I say sadly.

"I wish you could, too." She replies and I know she has tears in her eyes. There's been a lot of tears involved in the last few weeks. Besides, she's not the only one.

"How's Dorset?" she asks.

"It's okay." I reply. My heart aches to tell her about Nick, but I don't feel that I can. Not after the way her voice breaks every few minutes.

"How is she?" My mom asks when I return downstairs, holding the phone in my hand. I fill her in.

"Poor thing," she empathises. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah," I nod, unable to keep the corners of my lips from turning upwards.

"You like him, don't you?"

"Might do." I reply, looking down.

"Shame about his family," my mom comments. "They don't sound very nice."

"Mmm," I grab an empty cup from the cupboard and go over to the stove. The flavour of vanilla and strawberry tea comes to my nose when I take off the lid. "I'm not keen on them either. Neither is Nick, for that matter."

"Oh well," my mom says. "At least we're only here for six weeks."

My heart plummets. Six weeks felt like an age on the car journey down here –now it's nowhere near long enough.

"What do you mean, _at least_?" I ask her.

"Well, it's not like you're going to fall for him, is it? He's hardly going to be a permanent part of your life. Imagine dealing with his family! From the look on his father's face when he gave me the change, it was like he thought he'd burst an artery just by cracking a smile..."

I'm not really listening to her rant, because I'm still thinking about the falling-for part. It doesn't seem like such a slim possibility to me anymore.

* * *

By ten fifteen am next morning, I'm sitting out on the bench trying to read some stupid university book. Mom was a bit disturbed when she discovered I was seeing Nick again so soon, so I promised to take a couple of books with me on our walk.

I may stay at the cliffs and do some reading if Nick has to get back to the diner.

Elvis appears at the gate before Nick does, but I force myself to calmly pack my book into my bag before going to meet him.

"Thought I'd do some reading at the cliffs," I explain, sliding my bag over my shoulder.

"What are you gonna study?" he asks as we set off down the same track path.

"English Lit. It'll probably be dead boring if Shakespeare is anything to go by."

"I'm sure you'll have a good time no matter what."

"I hope so."

"Are you excited?" He asks.

"Yes, I kind of am. But I'm nervous too. I haven't spent much time away from home before."

"Where's your dad?" he suddenly asks.

"He's back in London. He's coming tomorrow night for the weekend."

"Oh, well have you got a lot of family things planned?"

I shrug. "No, not really. What are you doing?" I try to act casual, not like I just asked him where he is tomorrow night to know if we'll be meeting again.

"I have to work. Weekends are really busy at the diner."

"Oh, I see." Much as I want to, I can't mask my disappointment.

"You should stop by."

I don't answer him, instead, we leave the track and enter a meadow, and soon we're face to face with that spectacular view.

Today the sea is sparkling like billions of diamonds. I can hear the cry of gulls from the cliffs below.

I turn to Nick. "Do you want something to eat?" I ask. "I brought some snacks."

"Good thinking." He says, so I open my bag and pull out a picnic blanket. "A blanket too? So organised." He teases.

"That's me." I reply with a small smile.

"That's right," he says as he helps me lay out the blanket, "You're a planner."

I push his shoulder, "Shut up," I joke.

"Hey, nothing wrong with that."

He collapses down on the blanket while I get out some crisps and drinks. I also brought a little plastic bowl for Elvis and I pour some water from a bottle into it.

Nick laughs. "Okay, okay, now you're just making me look bad."

I shake my head, but I don't stop the small smile curving my lips up. "Do you have to work today?" I ask.

"Not till this afternoon. It's a good think my parents hired a cook, if they didn't I'd be stuck now at the diner."

"Does that mean you can cook?" I ask, impressed.

"If shaking frozen scampi and chips into a sizzling pan of oil can be called cooking, then yes, I can cook. Otherwise, no."

He pulls over my bag and takes out my book. "So, what are you supposed to be reading?"

"Shakespeare and the Greek Tragedies." He flicks through the pages, then shuts it down and throws the book back into the bag. "Bloody hell, it's like it's written in a foreign language!"

I laugh.

"No, really. I can't understand a bloody word."

"Neither can I , half the time." I smile. "Did you really never want to go to university?"

He thinks for a moment. "I guess I never saw the option. My parents are _not_ academically minded." He says with a rised eyebrow. "So they didn't exactly encourage me, and with all the shit going on with my brother...Well, you can understand why school has never been a priority to me."

"When is your brother getting out of jail?" I ask quietly.

His face hardens. "He's coming up for parole soon. I hope I'll be out of here before that happens."

"Will he come back to live with your parents?"

"Yeah." His reply is curt. "I'll take Elvis down the hill to give you some peace so you can read."

"You don't have to!" I say quickly. Studying is far from my mind at the moment; I'd much rather spend time with Nick. But he and Elvis are already at their feet.

"See you in a bit." He says.

"Okay, thanks." I reply.

I watch them as they walk down the steep grassy path. When Nick is finally out of sight I pick up the book. I sigh. I really can't be bothered by some stupid book right now. But I suppose I should.

I turn around and lie on my stomach, facing up the hill. There's something quite comfortable about it. A seagull flies over my head, high above the ocean, but against the land. It's so close I can hear it's wings flapping.

I try to read. The tall grass around me sways in the breeze. It's so peaceful and quiet. My whole body feels relaxed. The words are in front of my eyes, but they're not going in. I close my eyes for a moment and feel the warm sun on my back.

The next thing I know, Elvis is licking my face.

"No!"

"Elvis!" Nick shouts. I push the dog away, but I'm in hysterics. Nick is halfway up the steep incline, trying to run.

"Sorry," he's panting when he reaches me. He stretches out the bottom of his T-shirt and uses it to wipe Elvis's slobber from my cheeks. I can't stop laughing.

"My gross dog strikes again," he says.

He checks my face with his fingertips to make sure I'm free of slobber. His hands seem to linger. My giggles dissolve and I steadily meet his eyes as butterflies swim into my stomach.

"God, I fancy you." Nick says suddenly, and I know in that moment that he's going to kiss me.

My heart starts pounding ten to the dozen. I tilt my face up towards him and his lips touch mine, gently at first, then deepening to become more passionate. I know it's a cliche, but it's as if fireworks are going all around us. My whole body is tingling like never before.

He pulls away, but stays close. And then an enormous slobbery dog tongue comes out of nowhere to lick my cheek.

"Argh!" I scream again.

"Elvis, get off you crazy dog!" Nick shouts, showing him away. We look at each other and crack up laughing. "Next time I kiss you, I'll make sure he's not around."

"I don't want to wait that long," I say, drawing him near. He's still smiling when his lips touch mine.

Half an hour later, we wander hand in hand, back to cottage. The jittery feeling doesn't leave me and it's blissful. We take our time, but we're home far too quickly.

My mom's car is not in the driveway. "Do you want to, maybe, come in for some lunch?" I ask, hopefully.

"Uh..." he checks his watch.

"My mom is out.." I add.

"Yeah, go on then."

I beam from ear to ear as I lead him to the front door.

"Where do you think she's gone?" he asks, following me inside but leaving Elvis on the driveway. We've closed the gate to make sure he can't escape.

"Probably sitting on a beach somewhere, writing in her little notebook."

"Have you got any of her novels, here?"

"Back in the study room. I'll show you in a bit. Shall I make some sandwiches?"

"Sounds great."

"Ham and cheese? Peanut butter? What do you like?"

"You." He says with a smile, pulling me in for another kiss. He presses me up against the counter and I wrap my arms around his neck. The kiss is over far too quickly. "But I've already told you that," he adds. "Ham and cheese. Let me help you."

We work side by side, and before taking our food out to the garden we pause in the hallway where I see mom's novel.

"I don't really like books, but I can tell this one was a best-seller." Nick says.

"That's all you need to know, in my opinion," I joke.

"Of course, Smartass."

"I prefer Brainiac."

He chuckles and follows me outside to the sunny garden. We sit on the soft, spongy grass and Nick munches into his sandwich. I take a bite of mine, but I'm not very hungry. The winged bugs take up all the room in my stomach.

"I like this cottage." He says.

"It's nice, isn't it? But your diner is at a better location. Do you live upstairs?"

"Yeah."

"You must have an amazing view at the cliffs."

He nods. "My bedroom is the best thing about living there because it faces the fields instead of the car park at the back."

"Is it nosy?"

"I didn't mean it was nosy because of the cars."

"Oh, I know." I smile and he touches my face, his smile almost reaching his eyes.

"It would be nosy if I ever spent any time in my bedroom." He explains. "But I'd rather get outside with Elvis. Anyway, I work most nights, so I'm usually the last one upstairs."

"You work a lot."

"I have to."

"Have you saved much money for that car?"

"It's slowly progressing. They pay me very little money, and then I still have to pay the rent, so it's taken longer than I wanted it to."

"Couldn't you work somewhere else that pays better?"

"Not without moving out and then I'd still have the rent problem. I'll be doing that soon enough. I just have to stick it out for a couple of more months."

I feeling of melancholy engulfs me. I've known Nick for only a few days, but the thought of losing him under six weeks already feels unbearable.

"You're not hungry?" he nods at the sandwich that I've barely touched.

"No," I shake my head.

Nick lies down and pulls me to him for a kiss. Just when our lips are about to touch, the sound of a car in the driveway makes us both jump away from each other.

"My mom must be back."

"I'd better get going." He stands up.

"You don't have to rush off,"

"I should get back. My shift starts in an hour."

"Okay, yeah." I'm disappointed.

He goes out through the back garden to the driveway. I follow him to see my mom trying to open the car door without hitting Elvis. The dog starts to bark with excitement.

"Sorry!" Nick shouts. He seems to do a lot of apologising for his dog. He hurries to the car and grabs Elvis's collar, dragging him away so mom can get out.

"Hello, there!" Mom says, and there's an undercurrent to her tone which is not as pleasant as it usually is when speaking to my friends. It makes me feel nervous. I suppose she's still not over the whole family thing.

"Hi, Mrs...Sorry I don't really know Miley's last name."

"Stewart," Mom and I answer simultaneously. "But you can call me Tish. Did you two have a nice walk?" she asks.

"Yup, it was great." I answer, and Nick keeps quiet and I suddenly realise he's nervous. Although, he's nervous for different reasons, which just endears me to him even more if that's even possible.

"I was just leaving," he says struggling to hold Elvis back.

"I'll see you out!" I say, indicating to the front gate. He goes through and lets go of Elvis's collar. The dog shoots off down the track.

Nick turns back to close the gave, leaving me on the other side. "Are you around tomorrow?" he asks.

"Tomorrow and for the next six weeks." I reply with a smile.

"Five and a half." He corrects me and my heart sinks. "Can I swing by in the morning, again?" He asks, oblivious to my disappointment.

"Sounds good." That's a lie. Tomorrow is too bloody far away.

"Okay, is nine too early?"

"Nope," Six a.m would be better. I'd be happy with five. This evening would be ideal. Actually, if you could just not leave at all, that would be pretty much perfect.

"See you," he glances over my shoulder at mom, who is unpacking the last of her things from the car. He starts to walk away as she heads inside to the kitchen.

"Nick!" I call and he spins around. I becon for him to come back to the gate, and then i lean over the gate. "You forgot something."

He grins and kisses me quickly, then turns to leave.

"Hang on," I grab his arm. "What's _your_ last name?"

"Jonas."

"Nick Jonas." I repeat. It sounds wonderful. My fingers fall away from his bicep into his warm hand as he steps away. "Till tomorrow?"

"Yes." He nods, giving my hand a quick squeeze. Then he's gone.

* * *

"You've moved further already," Mom teases when I walk back into the kitchen with a spring in my step.

"You saw that?" I feel my face heat up.

"It was hard not to. I mean, the window is right _there_." She points to the direction of the sink.

"How was your day?" I change the subject. Thankfully, she lets me.

"Very good, I went down to the beach and relaxed bit."

"Have you done any writing done?" I ask, curious as I take an apple from the fridge. I didn't eat that sandwich.

"Yeah, and you should come with me tomorrow morning. It's breathtaking."

"Uhm, no, I can't." I reply. "Nick's coming to get me at nine."

"Nick again?" Uh-oh, I already know that tone. "Aren't you seeing a bit too much of him?"

"God, Mom, it's only been a few days." I reply huffily. I hate this. I'm eighteen, for crying out loud. She has no right to question me. "I thought you wanted me to make friends?"

"Friends? Is that what you two are?" Her tone is wry.

"Well, you know..."

"I just don't want your university studies to suffer over this."

"It won't. I've got weeks of summer sprawled out before me. I'll get it done." I say, forcing breeziness into my tone.

Mom smiles at me. "I guess you're old enough to know what you're doing."

"I do. Now show me the pages you wrote today!"

* * *

The next morning Nick and I return to the cliffs. The jittery feeling has been in my stomach all night and it's even more intense now. I don't want to keep my hands off of him.

He's so warm and perfect. To my amazement he seems to feel the same.

"I could kiss you all day." He says.

"Don't you need to eat?"

"Nope."

"Drink?"

"Nope."

"Sleep?"

"Nope."

"Me neither." I say.

"I really can't get over your eyes," he says, staring at them almost searchingly. "They're the bluest colour of blue."

"I like yours too."

"Boring brown."

"They could never be boring. No, it's more like they have inner light or something. They're dark, but they seem to sparkle."

He laughs.

"Don't be mean!" I cry, whacking him on his arm. "Maybe it sounded corny, but it's true."

"Where are your parents from?" he asks suddenly.

"They're both British, but my grandmother on my mother's side lived in Tennessee back in the days."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but her parents took her to Britain when she was about our age. My grandfather was British."

"I didn't think Miley Stewart sounded very southern."

"No."

"Do you speak Italian?" He suddenly asks me interlacing our fingers together.

I laugh out loud, shaking my head. "God, no. Why?"

"It's my favourite language." He smirks.

"Really?" I giggle. "How come?"

"I like it, I guess."

"That's cute." I whisper.

He looks up, staring into my eyes again. "Maybe you could take it as a subject at university."

I look ahead, thoughtfully. "That's actually a really good idea. They do have an option to take a language module. I'll check it out when I get there." I gaze across at him.

"What?" He takes the end of my hair and starts playing with it.

"Thank you. " I smile. "For the idea."

He shakes his head with amusement. "You are such a brainiac!"

So, Nick Jonas," I say. "When are you coming to visit me in Cambridge?"

"Nick Jonas –you remembered it?"

"I've been practising so I don't trip over it. Nick Jonas, Nick Jonas, Nick Jonas."

"Impressive. Miley Stewart, Miley Stewart, Miley Stewart –actually when you think about it, yours is a tongue-twister."

"Miley Jonas. See that one's easy."

"I'll have to change my name to something more complicated then, before you marry me." He jokes.

A thrill goes through me. I know, I know, I'm getting way ahead of myself.

"Oi, you haven't answered my question."

"About coming to visit you in Cambridge?" he checks. "You might get sick of me by then."

"I doubt it."

"You won't want me cramping your style when you're meeting all these smart known-it-alls."

"I'm absolutely certain that's not going to happen."

"You can't be certain."

"Yes, I can. I don't want to go out with some ponce from Cambridge University. They wouldn't want to go out with me, anyway."

"No guy would ever turn you down."

"Stop it!" I laugh. "How can you say that?"

"You're gorgeous." He shrugs as if it were obvious, even though no one has ever said that to me before.

"I think you're beautiful, too."

"Come here and kiss me."

I do as I'm told.

I can barely take it when he leaves that afternoon. The hours without him drag by like nothing I've ever known. I've never had a crush like this before. And yes, I _am_ calling it a crush, even though the L word has popped into my mind on more than one occasion.

My head tells me it's far too soon to be using words like that, but, God, I like him so much. 'Like' doesn't really cut it. I adore him... I fancy him... None of those phrases do it justice, either. I need him. I'm obsessed by him. That's more like it.

I'm not going to tell him this, though, for crying out loud. I sound like a nutcase and he'd run a bloody mile. I suppose I'm still in the honeymoon period.

* * *

A/N: _Cause darling it was good never looking down, and right there where we stood was holy ground, tonight I'm gonna dance for all that we've been through, but I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you!  
_I'm obsessed with Holy Ground by Taylor Swift. It's so rockish. Anyway, you already know that if you're following me on twitter, and if you're not then PM me and I'll send you the link of my account! Thank you for your awesome support, and I hope to get even more reviews than on the last chapter. :) Merry (late) Christmas and Happy New Year!


	4. Chapter 4

My dad arrives on Friday afternoon and it's damn near impossible to concentrate during dinnertime when he's talking about his week at work. My mom knows what's up with me, I'm sure of it.

She's planned a jam-packed weekend for the three of us and I swear with my life that she's trying to keep me away from Nick. One thing she doesn't know, thought, is that he's busy at the diner either way.

After dinner, I try to watch some tv, because reading my university books would be just futile, but even the stupid television can't keep my mind off him.

I keep thinking about walking across the field to the diner so I can see him, but then I remember his parents and I get too wary.

When mom and dad go upstairs to bed, I sneak outside to the gate and stand there, looking out into the blackness. In some silly way I feel like I'm closer to him. I wish he has a cell so I can call him, but he's putting all of his money towards the car.

I turn and sit on the bench. It's a clear night and the stars above me are bright. Unlike in London, there is no orange haze and the clouds aren't keeping the stars from my sight.

It's beautiful.

I finally told Demi about Nick. Her mom is recovering from the operation really well, although the doctors don't know yet if they've removed all of the cancer. Mrs. Lovato starts chemo next week, it will be horrendous for her, let alone for my friend, who will have to watch her mother go through hell.

Demi was surprised at first. She couldn't believe we already kissed. She tried to sound excited for me, but I know she just wishes she's here with me having fun and that all this awful stuff isn't happening to her family.

I suppose I should go to bed. And I'm about to stand up but then I freeze. Is that...I hear the gate open.

"Nick?" I ask quietly.

"Miley?"

I get up and start walking towards the gate. "Where are you?" I whisper into the darkness, and then I see him, stepping onto the green grass in front of the cabin. Elvis is by my feet already, wagging his tail. He crouches, ready to bark, and my reflexes work quicker than I would ever give them credit for because I lean down and pat his rigorously before he an utter a sound.

I don't want him to wake my parents up. Their bedroom overlooks the garden at the back, but I really don't feel like taking risks.

Nick reaches out and I stand up, throwing my arms around his neck.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, beyond happy.

"I took Elvis for a late night stroll and my feet kind of took me this way. I'm not stalking you, I sweat." He adds.

"I wouldn't mind if you are."

He grins. "What are you doing outside anyway?"

"Waiting for you." I reply with a big smile.

His kisses are tender, more tender than they ever have been. Out of the blue I feel like crying. It's the weirdest feeling.

Elvis whimpers and collapses in the dirt at our feet. Nick glances down at him and then back at me. The bizarre urge to cry vanishes suddenly.

"You dad arrived today?" He asks.

"Yes,"

"Are they asleep?" He nods towards the house.

"I think so."

"Your father would kill me if he knew I was out here with his daughter."

I giggle, pulling him closer. "I'm eighteen, remember."

"It wouldn't make a difference. If you were _my_ daughter..." He shakes his head, "Okay that's gross."

I roll my eyes and peck his lips.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"You're working, right?" I check before answering.

"Yes,"

In that case, "We're going to visit some castle by the sea."

"Portland?"

"Yeah, have you been there?"

"No, but I'd really like to go, though."

"Come with us?"

"I have to work, remember?"

I give him a mischievous grin, "Pull a sick day."

"What with my parents right there to check up on me?" He asks with gleam in his eyes. "Anyway, you'd better spend some time with your dad. I don't want to gatecrash."

"You wouldn't!" I'm desperate for him to come, even though I know he can't.

He smiles and kisses me. Again.

"You should go inside." He says, pulling away and rubbing my arms with his oddly warm hands. "You're freezing."

"Come sit on the bench with me for a bit," I plead. He hesitates but then nods. We slowly walk down the rock path towards the middle of the garden. Elvis is running around quietly, rolling into the grass.

We sit down on the bench and snuggle into each other. Nick wraps his arms around me and drops his coat over my shoulders. I nuzzle my face into his neck.

"It's ticklish." He chuckles, so I kiss him there, "Stop," he says, laughing quietly. Then he bends down to kiss _my_ neck.

I squeal quietly. It does tickle!

"See?" He raises one eyebrow at me in the darkness.

"Have you had many girlfriends?" The questions is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Why am I so beaten down by his past? I'm his present, shouldn't that be enough?

"Not really," he replies. What does 'not really' mean?

"And that means...?" I start kissing this little spot on his chin.

"I haven't been serious with anyone,"

"What does _serious_ mean?" I raise an eyebrow exactly knowing where I'm pointing with this question.

"Miley!" He exclaims, laughing. Is he embarrassed? "Have _you_ had many boyfriends?" He turns the question around before I can pry further, but I will get to the bottom of this discussion; he just doesn't know it yet.

"No," I reply, then with a small smile, "Not really."

"What does 'not really' mean?"

"I haven't been 'serious' with anyone, either."

He's no longer smiling, and nor am I. He kisses me gently. "I can't go a whole weekend without seeing you," he murmurs.

"Me neither."

"Can I come by tomorrow night after closing?"

I nod, and then we're kissing again.

* * *

About halfway through my holiday, Nick takes a day off so we can go together to Brownsea Island. The island belongs to the National Trust and it's supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful. No dogs are allowed, though, and Nick is feelings guilty about leaving Elvis all alone with his parents.

In the end, though, my mom decided that Elvis should just stay with her.

The boat for the island arrives as we climb aboard. We sit near the front of the left. Nick wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. I rest my head on his shoulder as we wait for the boat to start. Soon, we're zooming past white cliffs towering overhead and staring at smugglers' caves.

As we stand on the boat, the tour guide tells us that this area was the inspiration behind many of writers of that age. We pass Old Harry's Rocks, tall free-standing chalk stacks projecting out of the ocean and named, allegedly after Harry Paye, the infamous pirate, who used to store his contraband nearby.

The man sitting in front of us tells this story to his two excited young boys while their mother looks on fondly.

"I love all this history," Nick comments. My brow furrows. He's so interesting –and interested – that I don't understand why he doesn't want to go to an university. Is that really snobby of me?

I cuddle closer and press my cheek against his chest. He holds me even tighter.

Soon Brownsea Island and it's pretty castle appear before us. We dock at a pier and walk through the entrance to pay our tickets. We've brought a picnic, so we wander until we come to a meadow. There are a couple of peacocks ambling about, and some geese, ducks and chickens too.

I throw a mother duck and her babies some bread.

"Now you've done it," Nick teases, as the chickens come running and clucking. Soon a whole host of wildlife is right on our doorstep. A chicken hops onto our picnic rug.

"Hey, you can't come here, mate." Nick says, pushing it away with his foot. It comes straight back again. "Fuck, these birds are persistent."

I start laughing as a peacock shakes his tail feathers in Nick's direction.

"Steady birdie." Nick warns.

"Hey, look!" I exclaim, looking behind the peacock. "That's a baby peacock! I've never seen one before. Wait, how do you call female peacocks, again?" I ask, looking at it's brown –and far less interesting –mother.

"Peahens?" Nick says.

"Yeah, something like that."

"If a peacocks is a male, and a peahen is a female, what's the generic term for them?" Nick asks. "Pea?"

I start to giggle. "I have no idea."

"I'm going to look that up one day." He says.

"I thought I was the brainiac." I tease.

"Get away, god I can't stand this for much longer." He says pushing away another chicken.

"You've got to admit, though, they're quite attractive hens. If I'd own a hen, I'd want it to look like that."

"If I still know you in ten years' time, I'll buy you one."

I smile. "Why ten years? Why not two years?"

"You'll still be at university in two years' time. I'm not sure your roommate would appreciate the gesture."

"True. Anyway, I do like the sound of ten years." My heart clenches. "We'll still know each other in ten years' time, won't we?"

"We'd better." He replies. His smile fades and he kisses me. "Come on, let's go for a walk before the birds try to eat us too."

We make our way through pine trees and we come to a cliff edge.

"Don't stand too close," I whisper, pulling him backwards in alarm.

"It's fine," he insists with a grin.

"Just come away from the edge." I'm terrified.

"I am away from the edge, Miley."

"Further away!" I feel like I'm having a panic attack.

He does as he's told, regarding me with apprehension.

"I don't want to lose you," I say, "_I can't_ lose you."

"You're not gonna lose me, Mi." He says quietly, full of concern. "I'm not even near the edge."

I feel bizarrely like I'm going to cry again. It makes me feel so out of control. But call me a psychic, psycho, or whatever you like, but suddenly I just know he's going to hurt me.

And I won't be able to stop it from happening.

He takes my hands and squeezes them.

"Sorry," I say, forcing a shaky laugh.

"Let's go down to the beach," he tries to coerce me out of my odd mood.

"Sure," I nod quickly. He leads the way and I hope to God I'm not scaring him off with my behaviour. I've calmed down by the time we reach the steep steps to the beach. We've only got a couple of hours before our return boat journey. We sit by a brick wall built into the cliff.

"i love it here," Nick says. "It's so magical."

"My mom should come," I reply. "She's love it too."

"Tell her to bring your dad one weekend."

"Only if you take a sickie so we can have the house to ourselves."

He glances at me and abruptly looks away. A shiver goes through me and I wonder if he's also thinking the same thing. I want to be close to him.

_Closer_ to him. As close as it is possible to get to another human being. My thoughts dart towards Demi and I feel a little sick...

Demi and I went to an 'all girls' school and we both had this bugbear about some of the girls in our class. There was this small group in particular, led by a girl called Nicole, who were obsessed about losing their virginity before they went to university.

Nicole turned eighteen earlier this year and you should've heard her moan: "I can't believe I'm eighteen and still a virgin..."

Of course, me and Demi were –_are_- virgins too, so we didn't really want to hear someone going on about how this is a bad thing.

We both want to wait for someone special. But Nicole was obsessed. She went on a holiday to Italy at Easter and shagged some random guy. She was adamant it was special; she said she fancied the guy like mad and they'd vowed to stay in touch.

They haven't.

And it's hard to believe that somewhere, deep inside, Nicole doesn't regret her actions.

I know_, I just know_, that Demi wouldn't understand about Nick. She wouldn't understand if I lost my virginity to him weeks before going away to a supposedly start of a new, free and single life. She'd think it was a waste. She'd think I was just like Nicole.

I try to put my friend out of my mind.

"Wouldn't it be cool if we could stay here tonight. Not catch the boat back," Nick says with a smile. "I'd build a fire here on these rocks and we could sleep under the shelter of those ferns up the hill."

"What would you cook for dinner?" I ask getting into the idea.

"Chicken?" he says and we both laugh.

"I would _love_ to stay here with you," I say quietly after a while. He puts his hand on my waist. My body tingles with anticipation as he slides it upwards. I put my hand inside his t-shirt and he draws a sharp intake of breath. I pull him closer, wanting him to be so much closer.

The sound of a squealing child makes us break apart. A family is walking along the sand nearby. The mother gives us a disapproving look and I feel my face heat up as I take my hand away from Nick's chest.

He smiles at me awkwardly. "Shall we go?"

I nod, still blushing.

"Let's see if we can find an animal we haven't seen yet." He tries to project tome enthusiasm into his voice, but it does little to alleviate my embarrassment. I get up and he helps me across the rocks to the steps.

We get back early that night, after a blissful whole day together.

Elvis is deliriously excited to see Nick.

"Was he okay?" he asks my mom.

"Good as gold," she replies. "I haven't fed him any dinner yet, so he might be hungry."

"That's fine, I'll feed him when I get back to the pub."

"Demi called." Mom says to me. "You forgot to take your phone with you."

"Oh, right," I hadn't even realised it was missing. Too distracted with a certain someone. "How is she?" I ask.

"Good. In fact, her mom's chemo treatment is going so well that Demi said she might be able to come and stay with us this weekend."

"Really?" I'm beyond delighted to hear about her mom, but my heart inadvertently sinks as I process the second half of my mom's sentence. A funny little part of me is reluctant to introduce Demi to Nick. It's strange; she and I have talked about every single crush either one of us has ever had since the age of nine, but for some reason I don't want to share Nick with her.

I'm too frightened she might not see in him what I see. I don't want her to taint him in any way.

"That'd be awesome," Nick says, oblivious to the thoughts racing around my head.

"Yeah," I try to sound pleased.

Nick turns to me, "I'd better get back. Thanks again," he says to mom.

"You're very welcome."

I follow him to the gate.

"Walk tomorrow morning?" he asks.

"Sounds good." I say with a smile as he touches his lips to mine.

"I love you." He says it out of the blue, almost as though he's already said it to me million times. He immediately looks shocked, but I have the biggest smile on my face.

"I love you too." I reply.

"You do? Really?" his face breaks into an enormous, mirroring grin.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Elvis starts to bark at him.

"I'd better get him back for dinner."

Okay. See you in the morning?"

"Or later?" Nick suggests.

"You really want to walk all the way back here tonight after seeing me all day?"

"You're tired," he says with sudden realisation.

"No, it's not that." I answer hurriedly. "I'm thinking of you. I would always rather see you than sleep."

"I'll be back later, in that case."

_Wicked_.

* * *

A/N: Hello. :) Check out the one shot I posted yesterday. Good luck to everyone who have school tomorrow. P.S, I love you guys and I want to thank you for your continued support. + If you don't like Demi in the story (she'll be more in the next ch) stop feeling like that because you're gonna love her by the end of this story. Just saying. Plus, would any of you have anything against Joe/Selena coupling?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"I'm so pleased you're here!" I squal. After my initial, wholly selfish reservations, I couldn't wait to see Demi. And here she is, on the station platform, on Friday afternoon.

"I'm so happy I'm here too!" she squeals back. We hug each other tightly.

She fills me in about her mom on the way back to the cottage. The chemo is awful, but the doctors are encouraging about her mom's recovery, so that's an enormous weight off my friend and her family's minds.

"Now tell me about you!" Demi insists, "Is that boy still on the scene?"

Nerves wash over me for some reason. I so want her to understand about him. "Nick?" I try to sound breezy. "Yes."

"Am I going to meet him?"

"I thought we might go to his diner tonight."

"Cool. As long as you two don't make out in front of me."

"Gross," I try to laugh.

"I don't want to feel like a third wheel thank you very much." She adds, and I can tell the thought has been worrying her. I'd be the same in her situation.

"I can promise you, you definitely won't be a third wheel." I say, "His parents will be there."

"Well, hopefully there will be some hot boy talent for me too."

"Hopefully," I reply even though I haven't seen other nice guys so far. Then again, I've only had eyes for Nick so I can't say I've been looking.

We go to the pub around seven o'clock, right after a late dinner with mom. Dad has an important meeting today, so he might not even make it this weekend. We decide to walk across the field and I'm surprised and slightly disturbed by how far it actually is. I can't believe Nick has walked all this way to and from the cottage twice a day, not to mention extra further distance to the ledge which we do together.

No wonder he's so fit...Oh, I really hope Demi likes him!

I'm a nervous ball by the time we arrive. We go inside to order, and he's there, pulling cash out of the register, at the end of the bar. He looks up and sees me and BAM—that feeling again, like the very first time I saw him.

My heart does cartwheels. He grins at me and then at Demi.

"Hey," I say shyly, as we both reach the bar. "

"Hi," he replies fondly. "You must be Demi?" He smiles at her and I turn to see her nod. Is she..._blushing_?

"Nice to meet you," she says.

I notice Nick's dad at the other end of the bar serving another customer. He has his back to us. His mother is nowhere to be seen.

"What are you drinking?" Nick asks Demi, putting down one pint on the counter and pulling another.

"Umm..."

"Coca-cola?" He asks me while she deliberates.

"Yeah," I say with a smile. He knows me so well.

"Make that two," she says.

"I'll bring them out to you," he promises. I reach inside my bag to get my purse.

"Miles," he tuts, shaking his head.

"Are you sure?" I check, hesitating.

"Of course," he gives me a big grin, then turns to the customer behind us.

I smile and lead Demi out.

"Oh. My. Holy. God." She says quietly.

"What?"

"He's _gorgeous_!" she squeals under her breath.

I burt out laughing with delight. Nick brings our drinks outside a few minutes later.

"Sorry for the wait," he says, sitting beside me. "It's really busy tonight." He crosses his tanned arms on the table in front of him. He's looking even more sexy than usual tonight, in black jeans and a grey T-shirt with a green neon graphic on the front. He's wearing a chunky watch with a worn brown leather strap on his wrist.

Demi and I dressed casual, but she insisted we at least make a bit of an effort. We've both got dark-blue jeans on, and Demi is wearing a black top, while I'm wearing a red and pink one. We changed into our heels from our trainers once we reached the road.

Demi has brown eyes, and shoulder-length blondish hair, and tonight she's ironed her slight curl out of it so it's dead straight. I wanted to keep the tousled look to my long, dark hair because Nick told me the other day how much he likes it. But she insisted on putting eye-shadow on me; a smidgen of pink-gold.

"How's your mom doing?" Nick asks Demi, who, to my glee, is blushing again.

"She's doing much better, thanks." She replies.

"You've come through the Wareham Station, right?" He checks.

"That's right."

He tries to make chit-chat with her, but she's strangely lost of words.

"Well, I'd better go back to work," he says after a while. He kisses me quickly before standing up. "I'll come and see you again in a bit," he tells us both. "I'll bring out some more drinks for you. Same again?"

"Sure." We both nod. We haven't even started on these ones yet. He gets up and starts collecting empties. Demi looks across the table at me and grins. I know she wants to talk to me about Nick, but she can't until he's back inside. I'm acutely aware of his presence around us; the clinking of glasses together from the other side of the garden, and when my ears fail me I seem to have an innate sense of his whereabouts, even when he's behind me.

Finally, Demi raises an eyebrow and leans in for the kill.

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Mhm," I try to keep a straight face.

"On a scale of one to ten?" she asks,

"Off the scale." I say, taking a gulp of my drink.

"No!" She gasps.

"Yes."

"Have you.."

I know what's coming. She's sensitive about the whole losing your V-card.

"No." I shake my head abruptly.

"Okay," she seems to relax a bit. "But you really, really fancy him?"

"Can't you tell?"

"Does he have a brother?"

I start to laugh, then remember that it's not funny. "He does actually." Her eyes light up. "But you'd never, in million years, go for that."

"Why not?" she asks with a mixture of disappointment and curiosity.

"He's in jail." I explain to her about Kevin, what I know of him, anyway. "Nick doesn't talk about him much."

"Too busy kissing you," Demi teases. I don't deny it. "I hope you're not going to the whole sex thing on me," she adds jokily.

I try to laugh off her comment with a roll of my eyes. "Not likely," I reply. But a part of me knows I'm lying.

"Good," she says, laughing. But I know she's worried. She's worried about losing me, about us drifting apart, going in opposite directions. This is one relationship which she has no part of, and that's unsettling.

We move onto the subject of Nick's parents. "Is that his dad waiting tables?" she asks.

"Yes, I don't know where his mom is, with a bit of luck, she's upstairs for the night."

"So they're really mean, huh?" Another grin, another raised eyebrow. "But he's worth it, right?"

"I bloody hope so."

By ten thirty, Demi is yawning like crazy and we still have to walk home.

"I'm sorry," she says. "These last few weeks have been exhausting."

"I get it, D." I murmur with sympathy. "I feel so bad that you've had to go through all that."

"Fingers crossed the worst is over."

"I'm sure it is." I say, although I have no idea. "I'll let Nick know we're leaving."

He's popped out to see us every so often with drink refills, when he's been able to escape unnoticed. I haven't dared to go into the diner, even for a loo break, but now the alcohol is giving me some bust.

"I'll come with you," Demi decides, grabbing her bag and interlacing out fingers.

We walk inside. To my dismay, Nick's mother is now serving. Thankfully, Nick sees us before she does. His wary look in her direction, however, doesn't go unnoticed.

"We've got to head off," I say.

"I'll walk you out," he motions to the door. I turn and glance in his mum's direction, and at the same time she looks up and sees me. Her mouth is set in a hard, thin line. Permanently? Perhaps.

"Can't you stay a bit longer?" Nick asks us when we get outside. "Then I could walk you back."

"Sorry," Demi interjects. "It's my fault. I'm really tired, with everything that's been going on recently..."

"Of course, of course." Nick says quickly.

"We'll see you tomorrow?" I ask hopefully. We agreed yesterday that he shouldn't come to the cottage while Demi is there, three's a crowd and all that.

"Definitely. Come over as early as you can."

"NICK!"

We turn to see his mom come around the corner of the diner.

"I'll be there in a second," he says wearily.

"You'll be there right bloody now!" She snaps.

"I'll be there in a second," Nick says firmly. I have to give him a point for trying, though. The look on her face is...uh oh.

She storms towards us. Nick steps in front of Demi and me, protectively. What the hell does he think she's going to do?

"Get your filthy ass inside right this second!" She hisses. She jabs her finger at Demi and me. "These two whores have taken up enough of your time tonight!"

Demi and I nearly fall over her words.

"MOM! I cannot _believe_ you just said that!" Nick shouts.

"GET INSIDE!" She screams.

"Go." I urge him, my hand on his arm. I don't want him to lose his job—his only way out of here.

"I'll be there in a second." He repeats through clenched teeth.

She backs away. "Just you wait until your father hears about this..." Her tone sends a chill through me. It's only when she disappears around the corner that Nick turns to face us. I've never witnessed such a mixture of emotions on anyone's face before. Angel, fear, anxiety, remorse...

"You should have just gone," I say worriedly, sensing Demi's shock behind me. I know she wants to be out of here, asap, and to my utter dismay I know that neither one of us will be coming back tomorrow.

"I'm going to walk you home," Nick says suddenly.

"No," I urge. "No you should go back inside. Don't make it worse."

He hesitates.

"Come and see me later?" I suggest. This wasn't the plan but I know he needs me and Demi will be asleep, anyway. "Please," I press, "As soon as you finish, I'll wait on the bench."

He looks at me, his eyes glistening. He nods abruptly and squeezes my hand before letting it go.

"I'm sorry," I say to Demi as soon as we've changed into our trainers and are stomping across the field to get as far away from the diner as possible. We're both worried his lunatic of a mother will follow.

"I can't believe that happened! What a bitch!"

"I did warn you..."

"Oh, God," Demi's still in shock. "I get that he's gorgeous and all that, but Miley! His mother. How can you put up with that?"

"I don't have to see her much." I say. "He wants to get out of there."

"Where does he want to go?"

"London."

"Not Cambridge?"

I hesitate for a second. "No," At least not that I know of...Although I have found myself dreaming recently. This seems to pacify her somewhat and I hate her for it.

Oh God, I don't hate her. I don't mean it.

"Please don't say anything to my parents about tonight." I beg.

"I won't." She says crossly.

I have no fingernails left by the time Nick arrives at close to midnight.

"I came as quickly as I could." He says reaching the gate, out of breath. I get up to meet him. "Elvis, stay there." He commands, coming inside and closing the gate behind him.

He throws his arms around me and hold me tight. I can feel his heart hammering hard inside his chest. I've been terrified he wouldn't come.

I try to pull away but he's reluctant to let me go. I look up at him. "Are you okay?" I ask but he won't meet my eyes. "Nick?"

He looks down at me and his eyes fill with tears. He gulps in a mouthful of air and I can tell he's trying to to sob. He exhales, shakily.

"It's okay," I murmur, squeezing him.

"It's not," he whispers. He pulls away. The look on his face is scaring me. "My brother gets out tomorrow."

"Out of jail?"

He nods, and then his anguish turns to bitterness. "My parents couldn't even bother to tell me."

"But they told you tonight?" I question. "What happened?" I pull him to the bench and he sits down beside me.

It takes a long time for him to answer. "I was so angry with my mom for speaking to you like that. I told her I'd leave if she ever spoke to you like that again."

"What did she say?"

Pause. "She _laughed_ at me."

He's not even angry about it. He's just so hurt. I can feel his pain, because it's mine too.

"Then she told me Kevin would prefer my room to his, anyway."

"I don't understand." I say after a while. "How could you not know this was going on?"

"I hardly speak to them. I hardly ever see them." He admires. "We don't talk when we're working, and I'm out of the diner the moment I can get away."

It's true, I've seen him practically every minute that he's not working.

"Is your dad here?" he asks suddenly, looking back up at the dark cottage.

"No," I reply. "He's had an important meeting today so he might come either tomorrow afternoon or not at all." I lean my head on his shoulder. "Demi's asleep." I add, although I'm not sure if that's true. I hope she can't hear us. Our bedroom overlooks the front garden and is just metres away above our heads.

"Shall we go for a walk?" I ask, giving him a small smile.

"I don't want to keep you up."

"Nick..." I say tenderly. We walk down the lane, passing the last few cottages. Elvis runs ahead of us and we can hear his nose sniffing and his paws padding further along the dirt track. There's a full moon tonight, and the air is unnervingly still. We go through a gate into a field and sit down on the grass up against a dry stone wall.

It feels better to be out here alone. Well, alone except for Elvis. But his presence is comforting. Nick looks past me, deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

Finally he answers. "I don't want to go back." Pauses. "But I have to."

"Do you really have to?"

"My money is hidden under my mattress, for one."

"Don't you have a bank account?" I ask with a frown.

"My parents don't exactly do things by the book." He says with a wry smile. "They pay me in cash." His face hardens. "I can't believe he's coming back tomorrow. It's been four years since I've seen him."

"How old is he now?"

"Twenty-six."

"Maybe he's changed?"

"No. No. He hasn't changed."

"But you have."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"You were only fourteen when you last saw him. You've grown a lot since then."

"He'll still be bigger. And stronger, than me."

"Bloody hell, Nick, I don't mean I want you to fight him!"

"I'd kill him if he ever touched you."

"Stop it! Why would he touch me, anyway?"

"To get one at me." He pulls away roughly, as though the thought angers him too much to be bear me.

"What did he do to you?" I ask carefully. "Did he used to beat you up?"

Nothing, and then he slowly nods.

"Often?" I ask.

"Once I ended up in a hospital." I have to strain to hear him. "My parents told the police that I'd fallen downstairs. They threatened to leave me on the streets if I ever told anyone the truth."

I cover my hand over his, "How old were you?"

"Six."

"Six!" My eyes widen with horror. "Six?"

He nods.

"Oh, God, Nick that's awful."

"That wasn't the first or the last time he hurt me and my parents never did anything about it." He says bitterly. "They don't care about me."

He's said this once before, but I didn't believe it then.

"No wonder you want to get away..." I whisper.

He turns to look at me. "The only thing keeping me here now is you." He says simply.

We kiss, gently at first then more passionately as we fall back onto the grass. He hovers above me, supporting his own weight so he doesn't crush me. His tongue explores my mouth and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer. I slide my hands up inside his t-shirt and drag my fingernails down his back. He gasps into my mouth and I feel him down there, hard pressing into me.

I pull in tighter, I want him so much. His lips trail to my neck and his hand slides up my shirt to my breast.

"I want you," I whisper urgently. He moves away from my neck and kisses my lips again, gently.

"I love you," I add, wondering if he heard me the first time.

"I love you too."

"Did you hear me?" I ask, unable to keep the worry from my voice.

He laughs quietly. I release my grip on his legs.

"I want you too, but Elvis is putting me off a bit."

I glance to his left at Elvis, who is panting and watching us both intently while his tail thumps against the ground. I start to laugh too.

"Plus, I don't have anything."

"Anything?"

"A condom."

"Oh," I instantly feel silly. I hadn't thought about that at all. I know I should've, but in the heat of the moment it hadn't even occurred to me. We sit back up and he takes my hand. We both stare ahead at the moonlit field.

"I'm a virgin." I blurt out.

He looks across at me and squeezes my hand. "Me too."

"You're not!" I say with widened eyes.

He nods. "I am."

"But...How?"

He laughs. "What do you mean, _how_?"

"You're so...good looking! How can you have not shagged girls before?"

He shrugs. "The same question could be directed at you."

"I haven't found anyone I've liked enough."

"Me neither."

"But boys don't...Boys aren't like that."

"Like what?" He turns his head towards me and presses. "You don't think it matters to us whether or not it's special?"

"I don't know..."

"Okay, maybe not to some guys, but it matters to me."

"Haven't you ever got close to anyone else?"

"There was a girl once..."

I instantly feel jealous.

"I thought I loved her."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen. It was when we were in Devon, before we moved here."

Why did you move?"

"We couldn't really stay after what Kevin had done." He says unhappily. "Business went tits up. And my parents had never exactly been popular with the locals, in any case."

"_Did_ you love her?" I ask, feeling kind of sick.

He looks at me directly. "No. I love _you_. What I felt for her was not even on the same page." He smiles. "Not even in the same book. Hell, not even in the same library."

I smile back at him. "I've never been in love before, either." I tell him. "I can't imagine ever feeling this way about anyone ever again."

Was that too honest?

"Me neither." He doesn't take his eyes from mine and I draw him close.

"Fuck off!" Nick hisses after a while and I look past him to see Elvis right there, peering at us. I burst out laughing. He looks back at me. "God, Miles, I want you so much."

"I want you too." _Demi...the girls from my school..._Out, thoughts, out!

As if reading my mind, he speaks. "I guess I should take you home before Demi starts to fret."

I nod reluctantly and he stands up, holding his hands down to pull me to my feet. "What are you two doing tomorrow?"

"I was going to show her around," I reply. "I think she'd like that."

"It's good you're taking her mind off her mom. I'm sorry about tonight."

"It's not your fault. She'll understand."

But in truth, I'm not sure that she will.

* * *

A/N: How many of you have watched the celebrity beach bowl? Nian forever haha And even was there, and Josh H. and basically everybody famous (well except Miley and her buffalo, but then again it's hard to make her exit her house, making her actually play football with people is impossible)!P.S, Let me tell you guys; my new obsession is Les Miserables! Gosh, I am in love with the movie and the book is amazing. Definitely my favourite book and movie ever! What did you think of this chapter? Let me know in the review that you can write, just bellow -


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Is everything okay?" Demi asks me.

"I'm fine." I tell her.

"I've never seen you like this before," she says sadly and I don't know how to respond.

It's true, though. I've been on an another planet all day. I keep staring ahead, lost in my thoughts, wondering if Nick is okay.

"Can't you just call him?" She asks.

I shake my head. "No, he doesn't have a phone. Only the diner's public phone. I don't know the number, and his parents would probably answer it, anyway."

"What time does his brother get here?"

"I'm not sure," I look at her and smile. "Thanks, you're being really nice. I'm sorry about all of this. I'm supposed to be the one cheering you up, not the other way around!"

"I don't mind, really. It's taking my mind off of things happening at home." Demi shrugs and pulls her sweater closer to her body. After last night's hazy heat, today is cool and cloudy. We're up the hill from the our little cabin. It's so sweet, but I can't appreciate any of it.

"Maybe we should go get some afternoon tea?" Demi suggests. I give her a small smile for making an effort.

"Yes, of course."

We walk all the way down to the cabin and I sigh in relief when I realise my mom is already out, probably down to the beach to get more inspired. We bowl the water and take tea bags outside with us as we sit on the small bench in the middle of the backyard.

Thankfully it's not so cold that we have to sit inside.

"You really like him, don't you?" She says, interrupting another one of my dazed stares.

"I love him." I comes out of my mouth automatically, before I'm sure if it's a good idea or not.

"You do? Really?" She asks, her eyes wide. I nod. "I can't say I'm amazed, actually." She goes on. "The way you were looking at him last night..."

"He loves me too," I try not to sound defensive.

"Has he told you that?"

"He said it first."

"Oh," she replies. "Wow."

I don't want to let her surprise bother me, but I can't help it.

"Where did you two go last night?" She asks. Guess she acted when I finally got to bed. It seemed like she was asleep at the time.

"We went for a walk. Could you hear us?"

"Not what you were saying," Aah. So she was awake, then. Good, the walk was a really good move then.

I remember with a sudden shiver how heated things got last night.

"You've gone red!" she exclaims, hiding her giggles with her hand. "Did you..." she stops laughing and looks at me with a grim expression.

"No!" I respond hotly. "I told you, we haven't done anything like that!"

She falls silent, and it's not a pleasant silence. But I don't want to talk about last night to her. It felt special. Just between Nick and me.

And Elvis. Ahem.

Feeling awkward I take a big gulp of my tea, holding my mug carefully between my fingers. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of silence, we manage to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve Nick.

"So are what are we doing tonight?" Demi asks. "Do you want to try going back to the diner?"

"Would you do that for me?" I ask with amazement.

"Of course I would. You and me, we can take on that witch." She says buoyantly.

I smile. "There's also his dad and apparently now his jailbird brother to consider."

"Easy-peasy." She says with a soft 'pfft'.

I think for a moment. "Maybe we could drive over there now and I'll see if I can get Nick's attention?"

That's how we end up in a car, driving down the road towards the diner.

"Dems, you should stay in the car and keep the engine running in case I have to make a mad dash for it."

"We're not robbing a bank," she teases.

"Unlike his brother." I add. I can't believe I'm actually joking about it.

Elvis is nowhere to be seen. Heart already up in my throat, I scan the packed beer garden for any sign of Nick and then wait off to the side for a while in case he comes out. After ten minutes, very long ten minutes, my pulse still hasn't settled and I'm wondering if I dare to venture inside.

A middle-aged man seated at the table outside near me stands up and asks his wife, I presume, if she'd like another Chardonnay. I grab my chance.

"Excuse me!" I say urgently. He looks over at me. "I know this might sound really weird but would you mind..." This doesn't sound very good. "Would you mind looking to see if a young man is behind the bar? Dark curly hair, about this tall," I point above myself. "with hazel brown eyes? He's probably wearing a button-up."

The man gives his wife a knowing look and I inwardly squirm. "That'd be no problem, love."

I relax slightly now that things are in hand, but I'm still tense by the time he returns.

"There was a young man there," my heart jumps, "but he had black hair and tattoos. He was wearing a normal wife-beater. I didn't see a button up,"

That must be Kevin. Where is Nick, then?

"Sorry," he says, seeing my face.

I back away, mumbling my thanks and return to the car.

"Was he there?" Demi asks.

I shake my head as I climb into the car. "No, I don't think so." I put my seatbelt on. I'm on full alert the whole way back, peering across the field to see if I can spot him wandering.

"Mi, just watch the road," Demi insists. "I'll look."

"Mom, have you seen Nick by any chance?" I ask my mom the moment we're through the door.

"No," she replies, frowning. "Isn't he at the diner?"

My dad comes into the kitchen, all bright and shiny. "Hello you two!" He says cheerfully, then when he sees our faces. "What's wrong?"

Demi looks away, bound by her promise to me to not breathe a word, but here and now I'm so concerned that I don't know how I can keep this from them.

"Nick's brother has come out of jail," I blur out. "He hurt Nick really badly when he was a kid, and I'm worried he's done something to him now!"

"I didn't even know he had a brother, let alone one in jail!" Mom says, shocked.

"What do you mean, he hurt Nick? And who is Nick anyway?" Dad asks sharply.

"Nick is my boyfriend," I don't even think as words come flashing out of my mouth. "His brother used to beat him up. He put him in a hospital once. Nick's terrified of him. I don't know what to do."

Dad thinks for a moment. "Perhaps we could go to the diner? Scout it out?" Hope fills me. I don't think Nick's parents will link my parents to me. Plus, I'm grateful to my dad for not mentioning the fact that Nick is my boyfriend.

I nod. "That could work." A thought occurs to me. "Hang on...I think I know where he is."

"Where?" All three of them ask at once.

"The cliffs."

"The cliffs?"

"Yes."

"We'll come with you." Dad says, reaching for his coat.

"No, it's okay!" I reply swiftly. "I'll go alone." Demi shifts from foot to foot. "With Demi." I add, looking at her. "If you'd like to?"

She nods.

The wind has picked up so I know my hair into a long plain as we set of down the path, and tuck into my coat.

"The cliffs are beautiful." I say determinedly. "You should see them."

I feel bad enough for ruining her weekend, let alone dragging her on a wild-goose chase.

"Okay," she says. "I'm so sorry about all of this," I add.

"Stop apologising." She says. "I'm glad I can be here with you." I wrap my arm around her and give her a quick squeeze. I love her.

We reach the gorse walkaway at last. There's no sign of Nick, and I'm on edge as we stumble down the rocky path. In my mind, I imagine him there on the hill, waiting for me, but it suddenly occurs to me that it's not very likely. He could be anywhere.

"Wow, the view is amazing." Demi says when we emerge from the hoarse. I'm not looking at the view. I'm scanning the hills.

"I'm just going to go..."my voice trails off and I carry on down the steep slope.

"Is it dangerous?" Demi calls after me, raising her voice over the sound of the wind.

"No!" I call back, "There's a fence at the bottom."

"Okay," she follows me reluctantly.

"Just wait here, if you like? If I find him I'll come straight back," I promise, "I'll only be fifteen minutes."

"Okay," she nods and sits down on the grass. I hurry down the path, the momentum of the slope pushing me forward. I've never run down a hill this steep before. In fact, I haven't run down a hill since I was a child. It's strangely liberating.

I reach the bottom, breathing heavily. I take off my coat as I'm boiling now, and pass through the gate to the cliffs. A dog barks. I know instantly that it's Elvis.

"ELVIS!" I shout. "NICK!"

The dog barks again, more excitedly this time.

"NICK!"

"MILEY?"

The relief is immense. He comes around the corner of a rock and seems me, the smile momentarily sweeping the worry from his face.

"MILEY!" He runs to me, and I to him, and then we're in each other's arms with Elvis barking and bounding about at our sides. "You came," he breathes into my hair.

"I went to the diner," I try to tell him, gasping for breath.

"You didn't!" He exclaims, his hands on my face, pushing loose strands of hair away from my eyes while the wind does its utmost to unwind my plait.

"They didn't see me," I explain how I enlisted a stranger's help.

"Yep, that's Kevin," Nick says, when I've repeated the man's description of the tattooed black haired guy behind the bar.

"Demi is waiting up the hill,"

"Cool, okay."

We start to make our way back up there.

"Did you tell them you're leaving?" I ask.

"Who, my parents?"

I nod. He shakes his head. "Not yet, no."

"How did you get away from work, then?"

He sighs. Demi appears in view and I wave up at her. She returns my wave with a smile –she'll be pleased for me that I've found him at last.

"I got back to the pub last night to find my parents had moved most of my stuff out of my bedroom to the one at the back."

I raise my eyebrow, "What the hell? That's straight forward mean."

"I wasn't even that bothered about it. I'll be leaving soon, anyway. But I was worried about my money."

I stop for a second. I don't want Demi to hear this part of our conversation. It feels personal. "Had they found it?"

"No, no thank God."

I breathe a sigh of relief for him. We continue walking. "Where have you hidden it now?"

"I haven't. It's in my pocket."

I glance down at the bulk there.

"I wondered..." he starts but then looks embarrassed for a second. I place my hand in his and give him a smile. _It's okay_, I try to say to him. _You can tell me anything_. "I wondered if you would look after it for me?"

"Of course." I feel honoured that he trusts me, even thought I know that he should.

"Thank you." He reaches over and strokes my palm. I want him to take my hand again and interlace our fingers but we've already reached Demi. She stands up as we approach, and then tries to fend off Elvis.

"Hey," she says to Nick, full of concert. "Are you okay?"

Nick nods. "Come here, boy," He pulls Elvis away from her.

Demi brushes him off. "Have you seen your brother?"

I realise that I haven't asked him that yet.

"Yes." He replies.

"Wanna stay here a bit?" I ask. We sit in a line facing the view. Elvis flops down beside me, while Nick is in the middle. I turn to face him. "What was he like?"

"Same ol' Kevin." Nick stares ahead at the ocean.

"Did he hurt you?" Demi asks with trepidation.

"No." He pauses. "Not yet."

A chill goes through me. I take his hand. "I don't want you to go back there," I whisper to him.

"It's okay," he says. "It'll be okay for a bit."

"Did he threaten you? Shown any amount of violence towards you?" Demi presses. I smile softly at her worried tone. She likes him.

"No. It's not that he said or did anything," Nick explains. "It's just the way he looks at me...It's, to be honest I don't know how to explain it." He says. "He's just such a bully, y'know?"

I nod. I do know.

"And my parents are doing nothing to stop it! They never have and they never will. He's always been a nasty bastard, even evil, but they can't see it. Or maybe they can. Maybe he appeals to them because they're evil too."

"No wonder you want to get away." Demi murmurs.

"You know what amazes me?" I touch his knee. "That you've lasted this long."

"That's only because he's been in jail for the last four years."

"That doesn't seem like long enough for armed robbery."

"They've let him out early for good behaviour." He snorts. "So he'll be well and truly ready to let off some steam."

"I don't want you to go back there," I say again, more urgently this time.

He looks at me sadly. "Where else am I supposed to go?"

"Come and stay with me!" I say, even though I know my parents will object.

He smiles and shakes his head. "It won't be that long, Miles. Just over two weeks."

"Why two weeks?" Demi frowns.

"That's when Miley is leaving." He says simply.

I squeeze my eyes, praying the tears go away.

* * *

Demi leaves on Monday afternoon after a lazy breakfast my mom has made for us. I think she's secretly pleased to be going home, even though she keeps batting off my apologies with 'this took my mind off of things at home' responses.

I wait on the platform and wave her off. When the train disappears around the corner, I'm engulfed with sadness. That was one of the last times I'll spend with my best friend before we go off to university and I messed it up.

So much for sunny days at the beach checking out boys.

I remember the excitement of getting ready to go to the diner on Friday night and her constant gasping at how gorgeous Nick was, and I'm full of regret. I silently wish the weekend continued like that.

Even the weather has turned. It's cloudy and very windy today and the air feels damp.

My parents have been wary around me all day. My dad insists on a pep-talk before he sets off back to London.

"Look, Miley," he says and I instantly bristle at his tone as he leans over the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. "You're leaving in two weeks."

How can I forget when they're constantly reminding me of that?

"I know, dad. Everyone keeps reminding me."

"Who's reminding you?" I can sense another tone in his voice.

"You for starters!" I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Then there's mom, Demi, Nick..."

"Ah, Nick too."

"Yes, dad, and he's leaving too."

"Where's he going?" he asks with a surprise. I have to try really hard not to roll my eyes on that one.

"London." I reply with a sigh.

"Not Cambridge?"

Here we go again.

"No, dad."

He breathes an actual sigh of relief. I sigh too, but it's with unhappiness. He senses my mood, "You might be able to see him when you come home during the holidays.."

"I guess so," That seems like an unbearably long time to be apart. "Anyway, don't worry. I'll get on with some work this week."

"That would be good. Take your mind off things," he says perkily, standing up straight.

As if.

Sometime later, mom and I come out onto the driveway to wave him off.

"Bye, darling." Mom says, giving him a kiss.

"Have a good week," he says to her with a smile gracing his lips. "You're doing really great, Tish. I can already see the novel in New York Times' bestseller list."

She places her arms around his neck and they hug. I look at them with a wish dropping onto my heart. What it must be like to have someone by your side, looking after you and caring for you, forever...

Nick is always on my mind, but now the ache for him intensifies.

"What time is Nick coming over?" Mom asks when my father is gone, as if reading my thoughts.

"After closing time." I reply, "Which is earlier on Mondays."

"Eleven o'clock?"

"More likely to be eleven thirty once he's cleaned up."

"Miley, God isn't that a bit late?"

She doesn't know that he's been coming here after work every night. She's always asleep by then. I wonder if I should have kept this information to myself, but guess it's futile.

It's cold out on the bench that night as I wait. To my surprise, the kitchen door open and mom appears.

"Miley Ray!" She exclaims. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for Nick." I tell her.

"Come in inside right this second. You'll freeze to death!" She cries. "I'm going up to bed, anyway." She adds knowingly.

I shiver and stand up, but turn to tape a note to the bench telling Nick to come inside.

I wait in the kitchen. When I hear the gate latch I run to the door.

"Nick?" I whisper into the darkness.

"Hey," he says, coming around the corner.

"Mom's asleep," I tell him. "She said to come inside." He looks wary. "Leave Elvis on the driveway." I suggest.

I take his cold hand and lead him into the living room, acutely aware that my mom's bedroom is right over our heads. We sit on the sofa together and I cuddle in close. He looks shattered.

"You look really tired," I reach up and stroke his face, compassion washing over me. "Lie next to me,"

I shift to the edge of the sofa and he slides down, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to keep me from falling off. He turns his body in towards mine and holds me close. I shut my eyes. It's a feeling I cannot explain.

"I wish we had this place to ourselves." I whisper after a while, the slow steady sound of his breathing making me feel dozy. He doesn't reply. "Maybe we should run off together."

Again, no answer.

I pull away and look up at him. He's fast asleep. He looks so peaceful. I push his hair away from his face. His eyelashes are long and dark and there are beginning s of a stubble on his jaw. His skin is perfectly smooth and tanned.

I study his nose, and gently kiss his lips. He's out cold. I smile at him as love floods through me. And then the ache returns. I know it's a dull and distant replica of what's to come.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for any grammar mistakes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

I stay with Nick on the sofa that night until almost four o'clock in the morning, when he jolts awake. I place my hand on his chest to calm him. "It's okay," I whisper soothingly. "You fell asleep."

He sits up abruptly and I do the same. My eyes are stinging painfully. I've dozed in and out of sleep for the last three hours, but haven't been able to nod off properly.

"I'd better head back," he mumbles.

"Stay until the morning, we can go get breakfast or something." I plead.

He looks around the dark living room. "Where's Elvis?"

"I brought him into the kitchen."

He nods and goes to stand up. I pull him back onto the sofa. "Stay until the morning," I persist. He shakes his head and his eyes dart up at the ceiling.

"Mom won't mind," I assure him.

"No. I'd better get back."

I sigh heavily as he stands up. I follow him into the kitchen, where an unusually tired Elvis slowly rises to his feet.

"I'll see you later?" He says at the door.

"Are you working all day?"

"Night time, today."

"So come at lunchtime, maybe we can take a picnic to the cliffs."

He nods and bends down to kiss me, then opens the door and ushers Elvis out.

"I love you!" I call quietly after him.

"I love you more." He says over his shoulder and sends a wink my way.

"No you don't." I say playfully.

"Yes I do," he smiles back at me, some of the worry gone from his face. I stand in the doorway for a moment before going upstairs to bed.

* * *

The cold, windy weather holds through to the next day. Mom is working in the back when I wake up, typing like crazy on her typewriter.

"I'm going for a picnic with Nick," I tell her after finding myself sleeping in until almost eleven o'clock.

"A picnic?" She raises an eyebrow. "In this weather? Why don't you just stay here?" I hesitate. "Am I cramping your style?"

"I don't want him reading your erotic novels, mom." I joke, walking through the kitchen to prepare some sandwiches.

"Those erotic novels pay for your shopping spree's!" She yells after me and I giggle.

Nick comes inside to say hello before we set off. My mom wants the full low-down on his brother. Nick is surprisingly perky.

"It's been great, actually." He says.

"Are they talking to you now?" I ask.

"No," He adds, laughing a little. "But it's much better than the alternative."

"We'd better get going," I say. "I'm starving."

"You should have had breakfast." Mom says wryly.

"I slept in," I tell Nick.

"I didn't get back to sleep," he replies.

"Nick and I fell asleep on the sofa last night," I admit to Mom.

Both eyebrows go up, "Oh, _really_?" She says.

Nick shifts awkwardly at my side. "Let's go," I say merrily, hoping to put an end to his embarrassment. Although why he is embarrassed is beyond me. It's not like we did anything.

"Did you have to tell her that?" He mutters under his breath when we're out of the door.

"Why not?" I reply. "We're both eighteen, what's the big deal?"

He shrugs. I wrap my arm around his waist and smile up at him, but he stares ahead at the patch. I release my grip, a little put out. If he notices, he doesn't comment on it. We walk pass a couple of dog walkers on the way, but apart from them the cliffs are practically deserted.

"Let's walk down the ledge," Nick suggests. The grass is slippery underfoot, but his hand holds me steady. There are steps cut out of the rock at the bottom of the hill.

"Let's just keep going,"I say. We carefully navigate the steps and come to a chalky slope leading to the cliff. The cliff is only about ten meters high down here, and below is a flat area of rock just above sea level.

My dad was reading about this place a few days ago, and he told Mom, Demi and me that the rock here was blasted away by local quarrymen and used to construct Ramsgate harbour in east Kent.

"We'll have to come back when it's sunny," I say, looking at the clear pool of water, grey today, but greeny-blue on sunny day I imagine. "Can we climb down?" I ask him.

He glances at Elvis.

"Not to worry," I say, remembering his fear about Elvis running off. But he delves into his coat pocket and pulls out a leash. "He'll be fine."

"Good thinking," I say, impressed.

"Come on, boy." He says, leading Elvis back up the fence. The dog barks with annoyance at being tied up, but Nick pulls a plastic bag out of his backpack and unwraps a very large bone. I can practically see Elvis salivating from here. He flops onto the grass and starts to gnaw.

Nick flashes me an amused look as he jogs back down the steps.

"I thought you weren't a planner." I tease as he gets closer. He shrugs without looking at me and nods at the cliff edge. "You ready?"

"Let's do it."

Nick goes first and promises, with a grin to catch me if I fall. I jump the last metre and land safely on the rock. It's completely deserted down here. No one else wants to brave the weather conditions, but despite the wind, the sea is not rough.

The water laps onto the ledge and we can see the rock comes to a sudden stop just beyond it. The water looks very deep.

"You can dive in," Nick tells me.

"Have you ever...?" I ask him. He nods. I bet he looks hot in his swimming trunks. I see the dark outline of a couple of caves beyond him. "Have you been inside the caves?" I ask.

"Yeah. Want to have a look?"

"Sure." He leads the way. We reach the caves and go inside. The sound of the iwnd whistling through the hollowed-out space is loud, but it's much more sheltered.

"This is so cool!" I exclaim. "Can we _please_ eat here?"

He laughs. "Sure," He bends down and opens his backpack. Earlier, I gave him the food I'd prepared, along with a picnic rug, which he hands to me. I lay it out on the smooth rock. Nick sits down, but doesn't look at me when I hand him his sandwich.

It occurs to me that he's barely looked at me since he went off to tie up Elvis. I instantly feel on edge.

"Are you alright?" I ask nervously.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He shrugs again, not meeting my eyes. He stares out of the cafe opening while eating his lunch. I take a bite of my sandwich. His arm brushes against mine and it makes my hairs stand up, but I feel strangely separate from him. I don't know what's going through his head.

We eat in silence and after a while he puts his leftover sandwich down and links his arms around his knees.

"Okay, what's wrong." I ask gently, putting my food down as well. He looks at my knees and shakes his head, but doesn't answer.

"Nick, you're starting to scare me." He still won't look at me. "What's wrong?" I ask again.

"Nothing," he says. "And everything."

I tilt his chin towards me and force him to look at me. His eyes meet mine, darker in this cave, but still intense. A jolt goes through me. And then we're kissing.

We fall back onto the blanket and I pull him on top of me, shivers travelling all the way up my body into my head. They keep coming in waves as he kisses me like never before. His hands slide inside of my top to my breasts and I gasp into his mouth as I reach down to unbutton his jeans.

He looks at me and nods and I know that this time he has come prepared.

Butterflies sweep into my stomach as I realise that this is it: I'm going to lose my virginity to Nick, beautiful, lovely Nick. A boy I love, a boy I will always love. Tears prick my eyes and I feel momentarily overwhelmed at the intensity of this thought, but I keep my lips pressed to his as we ease ourselves out of out jeans.

He goes slowly at first. He grimaces when I cry out. The pain is acute, yet perfect, and I don't want him to stop.

Ever.

* * *

"Wow, you sure look beautiful." It's Friday night and I've made an effort for Nick –an extra effort. I've persuaded my parents to go out for dinner and invited him over to the cottage for the evening.

I've put on a little more make-up than usual and am wearing a short blue heart neckline dress with my hair falling down in waves. I feel a bit overdressed for staying in, but I don't care.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"For you, I am."

I laugh. "Now that's cheesy."

"I know." He looks at the oven. "That does smell good. What'd you cook?"

"Chicken wrapped in parmesan with a white wine and cream sauce."

His mouth falls open. "That sounds amazing!"

"It's dead easy." I say flippantly. "It's my mom's recipe."

"Okay, maybe I am a little hungry after all." It's still bright and sunny outside by the time we sit down at the table, but I light a couple of candles, anyway. It gives the effect.

"What time are you parents back?"

"They promised not until eleven."

"They're so nice," he says. "I feel bad."

I lean over the table. "Not bad enough to keep your hands off of me, I hope."

He leans in and grins, "No."

"Then hurry up and eat so we can go upstairs."

It's so different being with him in a bed. Feeling his naked body connected to mine is blissful in the extreme. On two occasions cars go by outside the cottage and we're both on full alert in case it's my parents returning early, but the rest of the time there's nothing on my mind except Nick.

"If you come to Cambridge with him, we could do this everyday," I murmur later.

"Only once a day?"

"I didn't specify that."

He laughs. I climb on top of him and peer down on him. We're both still hot and sweaty from the last time.

"Again?" He asks with a slight look of concern.

I giggle. "No, don't worry. Three times was enough." Pause. "For now." I peck him on the lips. He stares up at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask.

"Nine days."

Nine days until I leave.

My smile falls. "I can't believe I've only known you just over a month."

He nods and looks into my eyes. "It feels like longer."

"A life time."

"Not yet."

Happiness bubbles through me. "Not yet?"

"I love you so much, I can't imagine ever loving anyone more." He says seriously.

"Me neither." Our kiss becomes more passionate and I feel him growing harder beneath me. "Again?" I ask with a wicked grin.

"No, you'll be sore tomorrow and I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." I whisper.

_At least not in that way_.

I cry after the last time. It feels more intense somehow, like we know our time together is limited.

At ten to eleven, Nick is ready to leave. Neither one of us wants to face my parents. Every day we're brought down to Earth with a bump, and we don't want that tonight. It's been too special.

"I'll walk you to the gate," I say, opening the front door. He steps onto the driveway and then freezes. "What's wrong?" I ask him. He's tense as he stares into the darkness. "What?" I ask, full of alarm. I go to peer out of the door, but he puts his hand out to stop me.

"Elvis!" He calls quietly into the darkness. The dog appears around the corner and Nick visibly relaxes.

"What is it?" I press.

"Nothing, I thought I could smell smoke."

"Smoke?"

"Cigarette smoke." I give him an inquisitive look. "Kevin," he says simply.

Now I'm the one who's tense. "Come back inside."

"No, no, it's fine. It was probably someone just walking their dog. Elvis doesn't seem worried."

It's true, Elvis has flopped down at Nick's feet.

"Are you sure?" I ask him, feeling anxious.

"Definitely. I'll come by in the morning around ten."

I nod. "Okay."

"I'd better go before your dad gets back and realises I've been shagging his daughter."

I whack him on his arm.

"I love you so, so much." He kisses me quickly.

"You too," I call out to him from the doorway.

And then he's gone.

* * *

**A/N:** I didn't want to write the whole sex scenes because like I already stated multiple times, this is all only a beginning. I think there's a chapter or two left before the real story begins, and I'm nervous but in the same time excited to read your reviews once this whole thing truly sets off. I've been thinking you guys, since Once Upon A Magazine is slowly (but even so) coming to an end -I think there are like at maximum 5 chapters left- that I start a new story. I have a lot on my plate right now and I've been thinking about maybe posting it for Easter. By then the exams would be over and I'd be able to breathe again. Anyway, I wanted to base it upon The Notebook. How does that sound?

_Not really sure how I feel about it. Something in the way you move makes me feel like I can't live without you. It takes me all the way. I want you to stay._


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"At nine forty the next morning, I take my usual position outside on the bench. I've brought one of my course books, this time I'm trying to read it.

I feel nervous when I think of starting University in a few weeks. I'm way behind preparation, and I do indeed like to be prepared. Maybe I will be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl on this one occasion.

By ten past ten, Nick still hasn't arrived. I try to tell myself he's just slept in, but apart from the last time he did that, he's usually very punctual. B forty-five, I'm anxious.

Finally, my dad peeks his head outside. "Nick still not here?" He asks.

"No."

"Don't worry, he's probably just slept in." He says nonchalantly, but his words do nothing to alleviate my concern. "He's a big boy, he can look after himself."

I stand up, full of determination. "Can I borrow Mom's car to go and check on him?"

He frowns, finally taking me seriously. "I'll drive you," he decides. "I don't want you going there by yourself."

"Thanks Dad." I'm not ready to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. I stare out of the car window, but there's no sign of Nick. My dad parks and comes with me, refusing to let me go alone. I check the side of the diner and nearly faint with relief when I see Elvis tied up there.

"Elvis!" I call. He stands up and starts to bark madly in my direction.

"Shh!" I exclaim, rushing over to him to try to stop him from alerting Nick's parents. He's deliriously happy as he licks my face and hands. "Where's Nick?" I ask him. He starts barking again and the fear and worry return.

"I'll go check inside," my dad says. I turn back to Elvis. "Is he asleep?" I ask him, he licks my face with his huge slobbery tongue. "Arrgh!" I bat him off good-naturedly.

"Hello beautiful."

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up instantly. Slowly, I turn around to see who I can only assume to be Kevin, leaning against the diner's back door. He's taller than Nick, and bigger –much bigger.

His arms are decorated with a lot of tattoos and his dark hair is shorn. Stubble that is almost a beard, but not quite, graces his jaw. He's wearing a white vest like the one Nick's dad was wearing on the first night we came to the diner.

I stand up. Elvis crouches low and growls at him.

"Fuck off," he says nastily to the dog. "Pathetic piece of shit."

I have an urge to back away, but I keep my feet firmly on the ground. Kevin takes a cigarette out of a crumpled packet in his pocket and places it to his lips, lighting it with a match. He starts to walk towards me. Elvis' growls grow louder.

"Fuck off," he says again. I start to back away. "Hey, where are you going?" He asks in a silky voice.

My dad appears behind me. "Miley!" He says.

Understanding registers on Kevin's face. "Ah," he says and his tone sends a chill spiralling down my spine. "So _you're_ Miley."

"Where's Nick?" I demand to know.

"Miley, come," my dad interrupts. There's urgency to his tone.

"Where's Nick?" I turn this question on my dad. He takes my arm and marches me around the corner. "Dad?"

I can hear Kevin chuckling darkly behind me.

"He's in the hospital." Dad tells me as we get closer to the car, his lips set in a hard, thin line.

"What?!" I exclaim, blood draining from my face.

"Come on," he says, more gently this time. He opens the car door and pushes me inside. "We'll go there."

"What happened?" I ask as he pulls onto the main road.

"His mother said he fell down the stairs last night."

"Bullshit."

"I know."

"She said he was concussed. They've kept him in overnight for observation."

"Nick!"

He looks up from his hospital bed and sees me and I barely register the bandages wrapped around his head because we're in each other's arms before I know it.

"Miles," he breathes into my hair. I pull away and touch the bandages, tears in my eyes. I try to keep my anger in check.

"What did he do to you?"

He looks past me to my dad, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Are you okay, son?" Dad asks abruptly. Nick nods. He's in a ward with seven other people, but the curtain has been partially drawn around his bed so he has some privacy.

"What happened?" I ask, speaking quietly so we don't disturb the other patients.

"He smashed me on the back of my head with a bottle."

My dad breathes in sharply. "Your mother said you'd fallen down the stairs."

Nick meets his eyes, but doesn't deny it. "I'll wait outside in the corridor." Dad says, turning to leave.

Nick looks at me once he's gone. "You went to the diner?"

"Yes, Dad went inside."

"Did you see Elvis?"

"He was out at the back."

He looks relieved.

"I met Kevin."

The look on his face...Horror, fear, anger... "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing." I don't want to upset him.

He pushes me away. "I'm going to kill him."

"Stop it!" I snap. "He didn't say _anything_ to me!" He glares at me, but I know his fury is not directed at me. "I don't believe you."

"He called me beautiful..."

Nick tenses.

"...and then laughed at me when we left to come and find you."

"That sounds about right."

"He didn't know who I was at first."

"But now he does?" I nod, warily.

He makes to stand up. "I've got to get out of here."

"No, Nick!" I try to push him back down. "Stay here until they say you can go." A thought occurs to me. "Wait," I look at him hopefully. "Have you told the police what he did?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"But you have to! This would land him back in jail!"

"I can't."

"Yes, you can!" I say fervently. "You gotta!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"He said he'd kill Elvis if I breathed a word about it."

I put my hand over my mouth. Another thought comes to me. "But he wouldn't have a chance if we went to the police now. They'd go and arrest him."

"No. My parents would deny it. They'd say I'm delusional. They've done it before."

I stare at him, lost for words. He gets up and this time I don't try to stop him. "Will your dad give me a lift to the diner?"

"You can't go back there!" I exclaim, my speech returning.

"I have to get Elvis." He's adamant and I know I won't change his mind.

"Okay, but we're staying with you."

* * *

Nick insisted we drop him off at the diner and not wait for him. My dad wouldn't have wanted Elvis in his car on the return journey anyway, so I agreed to go back to the cottage and wait on the bench. But after a while, _I think what am I doing?_ and set off across the field instead.

I don't relax until I see Nick and Elvis –tiny specks in the distance. We run the rest of the way to each other –just like you see in the movies –and then we stand in the middle of that green, green field, breathing hard into one another's shoulders as we clutch each other tightly. Finally we turn and walk back towards the cottage, hand in hand.

My parents are standing anxiously outside on the dirt track, looking left and right. Then they spot us and I can see their relief from here.

"We were worried about you." Dad says when we're in earshot.

"I went to meet Nick," I explain.

"I can see that."

Nick looks away awkwardly.

"Come inside," Mom bustles us into the cottage. Nick leaves Elvis on the driveway.

"Let me take a look." She says, turning to Nick. He sits on the kitchen chair and she carefully unwinds his bandage. I stand by, watching, and flinch as the deep wound is revealed. The doctors have had to shave off some of his hair.

"Your hair will grow back and cover the scar." She assures him. "Go through to the living room and I'll make some tea."

I take Nick's hand and lead him to the sofa. I automatically snuggle up close, half draping my knees across his lap. He edges away slightly.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Your parents..." He mumbles. I move away so he doesn't feel uncomfortable. Mom brings through a tray laden with tea and biscuits. Dad is still looking disgruntled. Barely two minutes go by before he starts with the questions.

"What are you going to do now?" he asks Nick.

"Dad," I frown, it's too soon to be pressing him to make a decision.

"It's fine," Nick tells me. "I don't know know, really." He replies to my dad.

"Well you can't go back to the pub..." I interrupt heatedly.

"I can't stay here." Joe gazes at me calmly. "Yes, you can! Can't he?" I turn to my parents. They both avert their gaze. "What, you're going to send him back to that hell hole?" I shake my head. "He could be beaten to death!"

"Of course he can stay here tonight." My mom interjects quietly."

"Tish—" Dad starts.

"Thank you," I say forcefully, looking pointedly at both of them.

"You can sleep on the sofa." Mom adds. My dad gets up and walks out. Nick looks after him, warily. We hear the front door shut.

"I'll talk to him," Mom says. She follows dad out.

Nick breathes a heavy sigh and looks at me. "I can't stay here."

"Of course you can!"

"No, Mile...It's not fair on your parents."

"Who the hell cares about them? They'll deal with it. You're not going back to the diner."

"I'll be okay.." He says softly.

"No, Nick. No you won't. You're staying here. I don't care if I have to tie up." I'm adamant.

"I could stay at a hotel."

"No, you need your money. Anyway, it's the middle of the holiday season – most places will be booked out and everything else will be overpriced and awful. We've only got to get through the next week and then we'll be out of here."

"Maybe I should just go now."

"No!" I exclaim automatically, before asking. "What do you mean?"

"I could go to London..."

I instantly feel crushed. "I hoped you'd come to Cambridge." I say in a small voice.

His voice softens, "I'm not sure I could do that to you. I'd cramp your style.."

"What the hell are you talking about? I want you there. I don't want to go without you."

He smiles sadly. "If you want me there, I'll be there. But I can't stay with your parents until you leave, Miley. I'll have to meet you there, somewhere down the line."

"What? No. Come with me. I'm not going alone!"

He sighs and puts his arms around me, pulling me close. He kisses my forehead, but I'm tense and overwrought with anxiety. What does he mean, he'll meet me there, somewhere down the line? I'll talk him into it, I promise myself. I'm not going to Cambridge without him.

My dad hurries into the room and we both jump away from each other.

"Nick! Your dad's outside."

Nick leaps to his feet and stumbles in the direction of kitchen. He winces and puts his hand to his head. I grab his arm to hold him steady.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Got up too quickly." He mutters, pulling away and following my dad to the door. Dad tries to block my exist, but I push his arm away roughly.

"Move!"

"Miley, I do not want you going outside." He says sharply. Mom pulls me back firmly, then dad goes out of the door. Mom and I hurry to the kitchen window. My dad stands protectively on Nick's left, facing his big father. His hair is still gelled and black, and his tattoos ink out from underneath his tight grey T-shirt. It's not a warm day, but he doesn't look like the type to complain about the cold. He doesn't look angry, or sorry. I can they say a few things and then they turn away from each other and Nick comes back inside, closely followed by dad. Nick's dad turns and walks out through the gate.

"Kevin's done a runner." Nick says miserably. "He wanted to know if I'd seen him."

"Oh," so he wasn't checking up on his younger son, asking him to come home. "Was he okay with you, did he seem threatening?"

"No," Nick replies. I look at my dad for confirmation. Dad shakes his head in response. "Maybe I should go back home." Nick says.

"You can't!" I can feel myself getting worked up again.

"Look, stay here tonight," Mom butts in. "See how you feel tomorrow." She glances at dad, who nods.

"That seems like the best idea," he replies. I look at Nick and smile. He doesn't smile back.

It's clear that night that dad is not going to go to bed until I do, so finally I give in and say goodnight. It's ridiculous. "I'll bring Elvis in," I say, yawning.

"Bring him where?" Dad halts in his tracks.

"To the kitchen," I respond.

"No," Nick quickly cuts in." He'll be fine."

I stare at my dad, but know he's not going to give in. He's not really a dog person. "Right, that's settled," he says, turning towards the stairs. He pauses at the bottom and looks back at me.

"I'll be up in a minute." I tell him firmly. His eyes dart between Nick and me and he leaves, realising that in this small way, he's not going to be the victor.

He creaks his way up the stairs slowly. I wait until he's inside the bathroom before going to Nick, who is still sitting on the sofa.

"Let me help you make up your bed." I say, lifting up the sheets that mom brought down. We do the job together, then he glances at me awkwardly. "Night." He says.

"Are you sure Elvis is going to be okay outside in the cold?" I check.

Almost in response, Elvis starts to bark manically. Nick and I meet each other's eyes for a split second before rushing to the door.

"ELVIS!" he shouts, running out into the darkness. I follow him, and as soon as my feet touch the driveway I hear a loud yelp. Then: silence.

"ELVIS!" Nick shouts again.

"DAD!" I scream into the house. "DAD!"

Nick runs out of the gate. "NICK!" My voice sounds off into the darkness. "WAIT!"

My dad bursts out of the kitchen door, then reaches back inside to grab a flashlight. "NICK!" I scream again.

"ELVIS!" I hear him shout. My dad holds me back behind him as we rush through the gate. Then we hear Nick to our left.

"Elvis..."

I will never forget the tone in his voice. My dad points his torch up the track. Nick is crouched down over a hairy lump, tenderly holding his dog's head. "Elvis..." he says again, "It's okay, it's okay, good boy..."

Dad quickly flashed the light around to scan the scene, but there's no one to be seen. He turns the light onto Nick. I break away from my dad and run to him.

"He's still breathing," Nick says tears pouring down his distressed face. Elvis judders under his touch and his tail twiches in a feeble attempt to wag. Dad reaches us and shines his light at Elvis, his black scraggy hair looks stark and bright under the flashlight. The light moves away.

There's a huge gas to his skull, and blood is pouring from it, all over Nick's hands.

* * *

**A/N: **Next two chapters is where you finally find out what this story is really about! I'm so so so so so excited for you to read that part and see what's in plan for this story! I'm sorry that this is slowly updating, but I promise I'll upload the next chapter the moment I reach 12 reviews... So review people!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

My dad waits in the waiting room, while I go into the emergency room with Nick. The vet glances with curiosity at the bandage wrapped around Nick's head, but he doesn't comment. He's not a tall man, but has short, dark brown hair and a kind face. He helps Nick lay Elvis out on the table and quickly checks him over.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"We found him like this," Nick replies numbly. "There was a rock nearby."

"Did you see who did it," the vet asks, his eyes once more looking over Nick's bandage.

I'm about to interject but Nick slowly shakes his head. "No," he gives me a direct stare and my mouth closes. "Can you operate?" Nick asks.

"There's a little chance he'll survive..." the vet tells him gently. Nick looks down at Elvis. "The kindest thing would be to put him out of his misery." He gives Nick a sympathetic look.

I gulp back my tears and put my hand on Nick's arm.

"No." Nick says and it's like his throat is closing up because he can hardly get a word out. "Try."

The vet indicates the door. We wait outside for an hour, me gripping Nick's hand tightly as he stares at the vinyl floor. Finally the door opens and the three of us jump to attention.

"He's alive." The vet says and Nick's face lights up. "But it's not good." Nick's smile freezes on his face and then fades. "I don't now if he'll make it till the morning."

Nick nods. "Can I stay with him?"

The vet shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. He's in safe hands. You can come back in the morning."

"What time?" Dad asks.

"Call me first thing." He hands over a card. Nick takes it and stares at it in daze.

"Come on," I say gently.

It's an incredibly long, long night. Dad goes upstairs to bed as soon as we get back to the cottage. I can hear him talking to my sleepy mother in the room above our heads. I stay with Nick on the sofa and there are no complaints. I even rest my head on his chest and he stares up at the ceiling, too upset to speak or sleep.

"Do you think it was Kevin?" I ask carefully, lifting my head to look at him.

Nick hesitates before nodding.

"Why didn't you tell—"

"I don't know." He interrupts.

"Why do you feel loyal to him?" I try to keep my frustration under control. "After everything he's done to you?"

"It's not loyalty." He says. "It's like I'm connected to him." He keeps staring up at the ceiling, deep in thought. "Silence is almost second nature to me now."

I press my face to his chest. The next thing I know, Nick is edging himself away from me.

Dawn is spilling under the curtains.

"I need to call the vet." He tells me quietly. I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes as he delves into his pocket for the vet's card.

I dig out my phone but I'm out of credit and I forgot to top up. "I'll see if I can borrow Dad's." I say.

"No." He pulls me back. "Don't wake him. There's a pay phone down the road."

"Don't be ridiculous!" I snap.

He furrows his brow with annoyance at me. It's the first time he's looked at me like this and it makes me feel wretched. "I'll go to the pay phone." He reiterates firmly.

"Okay, I'll come with you."

We reach the pay phone and Nick goes inside. I stand against the door, holding it open. It's sickening waiting for someone to answer, but eventually they do.

"I came in last night," Nick tells the person on the other side of the line. "With my dog," Pause. "Sorry," he says, and I think he's being chastised for calling too early. "Please could you check on him now?" he begs. "Thank you." He looks across at me. "She's going to check."

"Is it not the vet from last night?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I think it might be his wife. She said he's still in bed."

"They must live at the vet's office."

He nods. I notice his knuckles are white from clutching the phone so tightly. Suddenly he perks up.

"Yes?" he asks. My eyes widen with anticipation. "Oh, no." He says quietly. Blood rushes into his knuckles as his hand goes limp. I step into the booth and take the phone from him.

"Hello?" I speak into the receiver.

"Hello?" the woman at the other end replies.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He didn't make it, I'm afraid."

Sobs well up inside me. I turn to quickly look at Nick. He's hunched over at the side of the road.

"What would you like us to do with the body?" she asks.

"I don't know." I stare in shock at Nick.

"Can you come in at around ten? We can discuss it then."

"Yes, okay. Thank you."

I hang up the phone and go to Nick. He cries hard into my shoulder, clutching my body as his tears dampen my T-shirt. I hold him as tightly as I can, crying too. Elvis meant the world to him. He loved him so much. He was his escape from reality, his only ally in a horrible home. He won't know what to do with himself now that Elvis is gone.

* * *

The bill is the next hurdle we have to face. Nick stares at the white sheet of paper, his hands shaking as he reads the total. I take it from him and almost have a heart attack. My eyes dart up to his. For the first time in my life I consider running away.

Nick reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wad of hard-earned cash that he asked me to retrieve earlier. He swallows, trying to keep his tears at bay.

"Maybe my parents can help." I say.

"No." He shakes his head.

"But that's for your car."

He doesn't answer. The bill is even higher that it would have been because the vet had to open after hours. Even now, on Sunday morning they would not normally have to deal with customers. But it's all money for nothing. Elvis died anyway.

"Would you like a moment?" The women asks.

"Yes please." I reply for both of us. As soon as she's gone, I turn to Nick. "Maybe we could bury him? In one of the fields that he loved running around in?"

"He's too heavy. We wouldn't be able to carry him. And, anyway, I'm sure it's not allowed."

"What about..." I imagine conducting a serious funeral ceremony at the edge of a cliff, before dramatically easing Elvis's weighted body into the water far below, but, again, we wouldn't be able to get him there.

"I'll have to leave him," Nick says dully.

"No, you can't..."

Nick nods abruptly, and knocks on the counter. The woman returns. He informs her of his decision and then walks out of the door. I bolt after him.

"Don't you want to say goodbye?" I call after him. "We could ask to see him."

He spins around, his face wracked with pain. "He's gone!" he cries, "Last night is the last memory I have of him. I don't want it to be his dead body!"

I rush to him and hold him in my arms as sobs echo through his body.

* * *

"What's the time?" Nick asks flatly when we're in the car.

"Ten forty-five." I reply.

Silence.

And then he sighs. "I need to go home."

"No way in hell." I shake my head.

"Miley..." he reaches over and puts his hand on my knee. I concentrate on driving. "It's not to stay. But I want to get my things. It's a good time." He adds. "The diner doesn't open until twelve thirty – my parents will still be in bed. They get absolutely wasted after closing time on Saturday nights and they're usually out cold until close to noon."

"In that case I'm coming with you," I tell him.

"You can stay in the car'" he replies. "I'd appreciate the lift."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Even if they do wake up I don't suppose they'll do anything to you after Kevin landed me in hospital." He muses. "They'll know your parents will have them locked up...Okay." he decides.

The diner is dark and quiet. His parents must be still asleep. I'm on edge, though as I follow Nick up the stairs to the poky bedroom overlooking the car park. The door of the bedroom on the other side of the corridor is open. I can see the view across the fields to the ocean. That must be his old room. The bed is empty, I note with a shudder.

Which means Kevin is still missing.

I turn back to Nick. He's frenziedly stuffing his belongings into plastic bags.

"Are you going to tell your parents you're leaving?" I ask quietly.

"No." He mutters. "They didn't give a shit about me while I was here, so they should be happy once I'm gone. Gives them more time to devote to their precious favourite son." He spits.

"They'll miss you behind the bar..."

He snorts. "Yes, they fucking will. No more slave labour." He dumps another bag on the carpet near my feet and reaches for the fourth to fill.

"I'll take these down to the car." I tell him. He nods and gets on with the job at hand.

I return to the diner afterwards, still on edge in case his parents have woken up. I push through the doors and head to the stairs, before freezing in my tracks. Cigarette smoke. Almost in slow motion I turn to look at the dark lounge area, curtains still closed against the sunlight. There, in a corner booth, is Kevin, lazily smoking a cigarette.

"Hello, beautiful." He drawls.

My eyes dart towards the stairs, but he's on his feet and over to me more quickly than I would have ever imagined possible. Fear fills every part of me. He grips me round the waist, the smoke from the cigarette trailing up his fingers and into my nostrils. It's suffocating.

"You smell..." he whispers into my ear, "of _sex_." His breath reeks of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol. I can't move. My feet are glued to the spot. Where's Nick? God, where's Nick? I want him here with me, but I also want him as far away as possible.

Kevin throws his cigarette onto the stone floor and stamps on it without moving away from me, not even an inch. The next thing I know, his hand is up my skirt and groping me.

_SMASH_

I hear the sound of breaking glass, and at the same time the weight of him is thrown away from me. I clutch my hands to my head and stare at the scene before me. Nick, his face ripped with anger, is gripping the jagged end of a broken liquor bottle... Kevin's unconscious body is sprawled out on the floor, blood oozing out of the back of his head. Nick and I meet each other's eyes at the same moment and then two things happen: one, his dad shouts something from upstairs and we hear his footsteps stumbling across the floor above our heads, and two, Nick grabs my hand and pulls me out of there.

Then we run, run, run, as fast as we can to the car.

His hands shake violently on the steering wheel. I want to put my hand on his knee to calm him, but when I try I find that I can't move.

My whole body is juddering in shock and fear. Nick glances across at me and screeches to a stop – just in time for me to open the door and throw up on the grassy verge. I retch and retch until there's nothing left inside me except bile, but even then I can't stop.

Nick rubs my back gently while tears, brought on by the incessant retching stream down my face. Finally I'm done.

Nick opens the glove box in front of me and pulls out some tissues. I clean myself up, without looking at him. When I do eventually face him his appearance is pale and he's staring straight ahead, but his hands have stopped shaking.

I reach across and touch his knee, able to do this now that I've cleansed myself, but he doesn't move.

"Nick?" My voice sounds croaky. Slowly, he turns his head, but his eyes won't meet mine. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

Then his eyes sear into me and I almost fall backwards at the rage I see in them.

"_You're sorry_?" he snits. "_YOU'RE_ sorry?"

"Nick," I say worriedly, stroking his leg. He bats me away, violently. I stare at him in shock.

"_What the fuck_?" he screeches, staring out through the front windscreen again. "What the _FUCK_! What the fuck just happened?"

"Nick.." I soothe. "It's okay. _I'm_ okay."

His head whips back around to me. "Did I kill him?"

"No!" I exclaim. "No, I'm sure you didn't."

"How can you be sure?"

I realise he's terrified, utterly terrified. "Do you want to go back and check?"

He hesitates for a long moment, before nodding. "Put your seat-belt on." He tells me. I do as he says, then tell him to do the same. He ignores me, doing a manic five-point turn in the middle of a country lane. We speed back the way we came.

He pulls up at the bottom of the hill and we look at the diner. There's not sign of life inside. "Maybe your dad called an ambulance."

He reaches for the door handle.

"NO!" I shout, pulling him back.

He looks across me, regretfully. "I've got to check."

"You're not going up there! There's no way you're going up there." Why did I suggest coming back? I thought we'd see something from the outside, some proof that Kevin is alive...

No I don't want him to be alive. I want him to be gone for good. The thought of Nick going to jail for a man slaughter – or worse, murder. The thought is too awful to contemplate.

"I'll be quick."

"NO."

"I won't go inside. I just need to get a bit closer."

"No."

"Miley, I'm going."

"Nick, NO!"

But I can't stop him. I know that he needs this, but I feel like I'm going to throw up again. I put my hand on my door handle. I don't know what I'll do if Kevin goes for him again. I can't protect him. But I want to be able to get out of the car quickly if I need to. If something bad is going to happen to him, I have to be there, even if the bad thing happens to me too.

I can't stand this. I shove the car door open and fall out onto the road. Nick hears my footsteps as I run, but it's too late.

"MILEY!" he shouts. And at that moment, the diner door opens and Kevin stumbles out, fury contorting his features. He lunges at Nick, wrapping his arm around his neck and dragging him backwards. Then, suddenly, their dad appears.

He tears his eldest son away and nails his against the diner wall. Their mom runs out of the door. "What the hell are you doing?!"

It takes a moment for me to realise that she's screaming this question at her husband. She turns to Kevin, yanking her husband's crushing arm away from her son's chest. She caresses Kevin's blood-splattered face, calming him down, quietening him. Then their dad turns to Nick.

"What are you doing back here, you little rat?!"

"I...I...I wanted to check he was okay," Nick stammers.

"Well, he's not okay, is he? You hit him over the fuck head with a bottle." Yes- just like Kevin did to Nick!

"You CU-" Kevin's angry words are cut off by his father.

"SHUT IT." Their father points his finger at Kevin as his shushes him soothingly. "Take him inside," he directs her.

She walks Kevin to the door. His hair is matted with blood from behind, but he loos over his shoulder and smiles at Nick. A chilling smile. An evin smile. "_I'm gonna get you_," he says in a sing-song voice. And then he looks at me and my blood runs cold. "_I'm gonna get you too_,"

"Shush!" Nick's mom snaps at him as she leads him inside.

"Get out of here!" Nick's dad pushes at Nick's chest. "Go on, scat! I never want to see you again, you good-for-nothing little rat. You've always been a faggot. A fucking wuss with your long curls and your earring. You'll never be a real man like your brother. And if I hear you've gone to the police about him—" he looks at me, then looks back at Nick, meaningfully – "I won't stop him."

Nick backs away, then turns and hurries towards me. He takes my arm and ushers me to the car, waiting until I'm safely inside before going to the driver's side. He pauses before climbing in, and I turn to look at what he's seeing up there by the diner; his dad departing back as he walks through the door. And then Nick is in the car, beside me his hands shaking.

We only get a mile down the road before he pulls over, and this time it's him throwing up outside the car while I rub his back. But his tears are not brought on by the vomiting. His sobs are real and heart-breaking and they make me cry too.

In an odd way it occurs to me that he'll despise himself in the future. He'll think of things that he could've said to his father, clever things, cool things, cutting things, but he said nothing. He'll never get that moment back. And I know that he'll regret it for the rest of his life.

* * *

"You have to leave," Nick says when he's calmed down a bit. "You have to leave, today. You can't stay here."

I'm not stupid. I know it's dangerous, but I can't leave Nick. "I'm not leaving you."

"I'm not staying either." He replies.

"Where are you going?"

"London."

"But your car! Your money!"

"I'll catch the train, I have to go now, Miley. And so do you. I won't be able to relax until I know you're safe."

"I'm not going without you!"

"Stop it! Give it a fucking rest, would you?"

My mouth falls open.

"I'm sorry," he snaps, not sounding it. "But I have to go. I have to go to London."

I feel tears prickling in the back of my eyes. "What about Cambridge?"

"_I'm NOT going to Cambridge_!" He shouts at me. I'm at loss of words. Totally and utterly loss of words. "I can't, alright?" Now he sounds frustrated. "I can't. Not yet. Not until I've got myself sorted. I have to go to London." He sounds adamant.

"But why?" I ask hopelessly. "Why London?"

"It has to be London!" he shouts.

"But why?" I plead with him.

"It's my plan! It's my fucking plan! I've got to get something right! Stop going at me."

I stare at him as he puts his hands to his head. He looks almost shocked when he feels bandages there instead of hair, and then he's trying to rip the bandages off.

"Stop it!" I cry, reaching across to him. He knocks me away roughly.

"You have to go." He says in a low, serious voice. "You have to go today. Tell your parents what happened. Tell them to take you away."

"No. I won't."

"Then I will," he tears away from the kerb.

"Nick, stop it you're scaring me!" I scream at him. He screeches around the corner onto the dirt track leading to the cottage.

"Slow down!" I yell. But he doesn't. He slams on the brakes outside the cottage and my head jerks forward painfully. He's out of the car before I can even register.

"No!" I cry. I don't want him to tell my parents. He'll get his wish. They'll take me away. They'll take me as far away from his family – from him – as possible.

I run after him, but he's already banging on the door.

"Please!" I beg.

He pushes open the door and storms inside.

"What? What is it?"

I arrive just in time to see my mom asking these questions as she comes into the kitchen.

"Where's Miley?" My dad asks from behind her.

"I'm here!" I shout back. "Nick, stop please."

"You have to take her away." He urges my parents. "Get her as far away from here as possible."

"Why?" My dad demands to know.

"It's my brother. He hurt her." My mom gasps. "Not...seriously. But he'll hurt her worse next time." Nick meets my eyes and his face is full of pain and regret. "He's a rapist."

My jaw hits the floor. He told me his brother robbed a few banks.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to me.

"I'm calling the police!" My dad erupts.

"PLEASE" Nick shouts, "Please," he begs, "Please just leave. Just get away from here. As far away from here as possible. He'll find you. He'll find Miley. He won't forget. If you call the police he'll never forget even if he's locked up again for years. PLEASE." He begs again.

My dad hesitates, then turns to my mom. "Tish, get your things." He tells her firmly, then to me. "Go and pack."

"No.."

"MILEY." He shouts. "Go and pack!"

"Go," Nick urges me, nodding at the stairs. "Go,"

"Come upstairs with me,"

"I'll wait here," he tells me.

I glance at my dad, who I know was about to object my request. He gives Nick a hard stare but then turns his eyes on me. "Be quick." He says. I notice his bag is already packed and by the door.

He was about to leave for London himself.

"Wait!" the thought suddenly enter my head and hope fills every part of me. "We're going to London tonight. You can come with us."

"Just go and pack," Nick says gruffly.

"But you can, can't he dad? We can give him a lift."

My dad doesn't reply. "DAD!" I shout.

"Go and pack!" He snaps at me.

I glance at Nick. "I'll wait here," he tells me.

I regard him warily.

"Go," he urges once more.

I take a couple of steps towards the stairs, then turn back to look at him. He smiles a small smile. His eyes are sad: shining – not sparkling. He looks like he's saying goodbye with his eyes. _Everything will be fine_, I tell myself._ He's just upset_.

He's gone by the time I return downstairs.

* * *

**A/N:** This is it. The story truly begins with the next chapter. Tell me, what do you think happens from now on? I love how every one of you thought that this story is coming to an end, when in reality it is only beginning. You haven't met half of the characters that I cannot wait for you to meet, and oh gosh I'm really really excited!

_P.S, Let me just say that this week's The Vampire Diaries episode was EPIC._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Six months later**

I'm sitting in my room, staring out of the window. I can see treetops, church roofs and the chimney of the National History Museum from here.

I sit here a lot, just staring. I go to most classes – the ones I can face – and I do enough work to get by. The rest of the time you'll find me here.

Staring.

Wondering.

Wishing.

And trying to read many, many, _many_ books I need to get through in order to acquire my English Lit degree. When I first came here, some well-meaning students tried to get me to go out of my room and down to the pub.

They asked, often at first, for me to join them on night out. They thought I had a shell that could be broken. They didn't realise that _I_ was the broken one; my shell had nothing to do with it.

Now they thankfully leave me alone.

The girl who keeps to herself.

The shy girl.

To give them credit, they at least tried. But how could they know? I wasn't shy.

I was heartbroken.

I'm _still_ heartbroken. It's a permanent state of being.

I hate it when my parents come to visit, which, thankfully, isn't often. I have to pretend that I'm fine, otherwise they'll worry. It's the same when they call me. I've stopped charging my phone. It's in a drawer in my bedroom, the battery permanently empty. I can't bear putting up the pretence on a regular basis.

At least no one knows me here. No one knows what I used to be like.

Before Nick.

Before love.

Before loss.

At first, my room was my refuge. But as time has gone on it's felt like my prison. It's been a bitterly cold winter, but today the sun is shining.

Something stirs inside me. Something I haven't for such a long time that I'm not sure I recognise it.

Could it be...happiness? No.

Hope? _Maybe._

I have a sudden urge to get out; so before the deep sadness sets in again, I turn and hurry out of the door, grabbing my bag as I go. I jog down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor, keeping my head down so that I don't have to speak to anyone.

Then I'm outside, in the bright sunshine and the positive feeling inside me grows stronger, and I desperately don't want it to dissolve.

I'm so sick of being so damn sad all the time.

I walk – fast –towards the main road. On autopilot, my fingers curl under and I press my nails into my palms, causing me to wince. I flex my hands and try to stop myelf from doing it.

Pain has become so natural to me, but I don't want it.

Not today.

The National History Museum is straight ahead, the two stone lion sentries guarding the neo-classical building with its row of columns. I turn left, away from the city centre. I take a right onto a small alley.

The traffic is really noisy so I step off the pavement and cautiously climb over the cattle grid into the marshy parkland beside the river.

I choose the grass path instead of the asphalt one, preferring the feel of its spongy softness under my feet. It reminds me of walking on the cliffs at the Ledge, and then I'm transported back there with Nick.

_I love you...I love you, Miley...I love you..._

I halt in my steps as the pain debilitates me. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to push out the memory of him.

It turns out that my instincts were correct. I knew that he would hurt me. I just didn't know how.

When I came downstairs that day to find him gone I bolted, running out of hte door and down the road. I thought he might be waiting at the bus stop, but he was nowhere to be seen. In panic, I tore back to the cottage and snatched my mom's car keys, but my dad stood in front of her car, blocking me from leaving.

I screamed at him to move, but he wouldn't. Eventually my mom climbed into the car beside me and attempted to calm me down.

I begged her to let me go to the train station, but she tried to convince me that Nick could be anywhere by now. I sobbed my heart out the whole way home. I still can't speak about Nick to my dad. I know that he was only trying to protect me, but I don't think that I will ever be able to forgive him.

I spent every day of the next two weeks searching fruitlessly on the streets of London, knowing that my chances of seeing Nick were next to nothing. I never did find him. Never did see any trace of him. Now any reunion is in his hands.

He still hasn't come for me. And I'm still waiting.

I force my eyes open and the blurry blue shape of a flower comes into focus. I concentrate on it, and slowly the pain disappears. I look around and see that I'm surrounded by the first flowers of the spring. Winter has gone, and I've only just noticed.

I wipe the hot tears from my eyes and then I straighten up and keep walking.

I come out onto a road that leads to the Feather Street Bridge and one of the main tourist stations on the River Cam. I look down at the rows and rows of long, narrow wooden boats chained to each other. They're used for punting.

I still haven't been punting.

I don't know why. I should take a tour. Maybe I will. One day.

I cross over the bridge, again heading away from the city, and then I follow the path that runs down the Queen road, with the backs of colleges. The sun is warm on my body and I'm hot from walking so fast, so I take off my black cardigan and tie it around my waist, before forcibly concentrating on slowing my pace to a wander.

In my six months here, I have been looking, but not really seeing. Now I take in my surroundings. Small green buds have formed on the trees, and some are drenched with blossom.

Up ahead a man walks his dog. I try not to look away, and sure enough, he nods and smiles at me. Feeling strange, I nod and smile back.

That's it, Miley. That's the way forward.

The next time someone passes I even go so far as to say good morning. The corresponding friendliness of these strangers feels oddly like a reward instead of a punishment, and soon I'm smiling for real.

For the first time I'm genuinely struck by how breathtakingly beautiful it is here. Until now, I've felt too deadened inside to appreciate it. I walk a little further before it occurs to me that I haven't yet used my Student ID pass that allows me free access through the colleges, regardless of the fact that I don't go to the university.

On a whim, I turn into the black wrought-iron gates belonging to Clare College, stopping when I reach the bridge. I stand there, and look straight ahead.

Demi hasn't come to visit yet I haven't encouraged her to, because I haven't felt up for visitors, not for visiting her in Edinburgh.

Her mom is in remission, thankfully. I tried not to let Demi witness the extent of my pain after Dorset, but it wasn't always possible. I still remember the look on her face when she saw me on one particularly inconsolable afternoon before we set off for university. She couldn't understand it.

It was as if I was a stranger to her. As with my parents, I have to pretend that I'm fine when I speak to her now. Christmas was hell, putting on an act when we were face to face, and I'm dreading going home for Easter.

A cloud momentarily passes over the sun and the water ripples beneath a cool breeze. I turn to see a lone tourist guide drawing nearer. He looks to be in his late teens or early twenties and is wearing a black T-shirt and black trousers.

He has curly hair that stands uncombed on the top of his face. He's standing a few feet away from me, on a square wooden platform. I continue to watch as he takes out a book, it looks like something you can get at a local tourist shop. Oddly I can't tear my eyes away.

And then he looks right at me.

I try to avert my gaze, but I can't. He grins and salutes me, and I find myself smiling and saluting him back. He's about to wave me but instead of his free hand, he lifts the one in which he's holding the book; and in one moment the book is in the air, and in the other it's sinking deep into the water of the river.

I run to the other side of the bridge. "That sucks!" I call out in horror. The guy is already at the bottom of the bridge and he looks up at me and grins. I see the book, dry in his hands.

I realise he was having on me. "You bastard!" I shout to the sound of him laughing.

I cross the bridge and pass through the tall stone arch into Clare College. My feet carry me in the direction of a small chapel. The organ fills the chapel as I queue to go inside. I wander through the doors and gaze upwards to see the masonry of the fan-vaulted ceiling. It's almost too stunning to contemplate, as are the enormous stained-glass windows towering overhead.

I make my way up the aisle, and under the intricately carved dark oak screen which houses the organ and its golden pipes. The leaflet in my hand reveals that it was a gift from King Henry VIII and his wife Queen Anne Boleyn during the three years of marriage, before he head her executed. I shiver.

This is my city now. And for the first time I'm starting to realise how incredibly lucky I am to be here.

* * *

I return to the river the following day, strangely addicted to it now after my winter of discontent. This time, armed with a takeaway coffee and a brand-new tourist leaflet.

I open my bag and pull out a copy of How To Kill A Mockingbird. I take a sip of my coffee. It tastes good. I feel good. It's been a while. I lean forward on my elbows and just let myself be for a while.

I finally feel like I'm making the most of the sunshine, making the most of my life. Maybe it's not too late. It had felt like it was.

It's even sunnier than yesterday and it seems like the whole of Cambridge is competing for space on the water. I smile to myself as I witness punts resemble bumper cars, crashing into each other as novices unsuccessfully attempt to navigate the river.

A group of people walk by, and I can hear the voice of a lady telling them something about the architecture meaning of the building surrounding us. I try to get into the book until my eyes catch the same guy from yesterday.

This time he's leading a group of people behind him as he trails around telling a story that seems to entrance his tourists. From the spot where I'm sitting, I can tell they're Asians. Suddenly his eyes catch onto mine, and he smiles broadly.

"You again!" he calls out cheerfully, thrusting his microphone into a man's hand and coming towards me. He nods at the unread book in my right hand and then behind me at New Court. "Do you go to John's?" That's how the locals refer to the college of 's.

"No," I reply as several sets of eyes regard me from the tour group. "I'm at Anglia Ruskin."

"Nice."

"What about you?" I ask, awkwardly aware of the people that are waiting for him. Yet in the same time I really don't want to turn out to be rude. "Are you studying here?"

"Hell no," He laughs. "Not bright enough for that. Where are you from?"

I glance at his passengers again. He looks over his shoulders at them and shrugs. "They can wait. It's not like they understand a word I'm saying. So where are you from?"

"London."

"No, I mean where originally?"

"London," I reply with a hint of a smirk. I know where he's getting at. He gives me a wry look. "My grandmother is from Texas." I explain.

"Can you by any chance speak any Chinese?" he asks eagerly, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his passengers.

A pang goes through me. Nick suggested I take Chinese as a language module if the university offered it. It turns that they do, but I felt too raw to follow through with it, so I chose Creative Writing instead.

"I'm afraid not." I reply.

"Never mind...Hey, do you want to join me?"

I'm taken back. "Really? I just told you I won't be able to translate for you."

"Come and keep me company then," he holds out his hand. He sees me hesitation. "What have you got to lose? I'm hardly going to commit first-degree murder in front of all these people."

I don't know what it is about him, but I'm drawn to him. I'm aware of how strange that sounds, because I'm in no way attracted to him, but he seems so affable, so unthreatening and I know what this isn't a come-on.

I stand up and gather my things. "You're right."

We walk across the small green area towards the round of people waiting for us to arrive. I give them an apologetic smile. "Have you been doing this job for long?" I ask the guy.

"A few years. It started off as a school-holiday gig and became a profession."

"Wow. You must enjoy it then."

"Not in the middle of the winter. But that's okay. I go skiing then."

I smile up at him. "Sounds like a pretty good life."

He shrugs. "I like it."

It's been a while since I've conversed so easily with anyone. I stare out of the boat at the jaw dropping beautiful building lining down the road.

"What's that?" I ask curiously as we step in front of an old building.

"The Wren Library." He replies.

I arch an eyebrow. "Wren as in Christopher Wren?"

"I didn't invite you with us, so I'd have to work," he jokes, before adding in a sing-song voice: 'Designed by Sir Christopher Wren and completed in 1695, the Wren Library houses many special collections, including over a thousand medieval manuscripts, early Shakespeare plays, books from Sir Isaac Newton's own library and –" he pauses for dramatic effect – "A.A Milne's manuscripts of Winnie-the-Pooh."

"Wow," I say in awe. He looks unfazed. "Don't you find it interesting?"

"I did the first five times."

"How many tourist groups do you do in a day?"

"Depends on how busy it is. Once I did seven."

"Seven?"

"That was in the height of summer, though." We start walking again. "It'll be a while before it gets that busy. "

We continue to chat until we reach the destination: a rest stop for the tourists to eat their snacks and drink their beverages.

"I better let you off here," he says, pointing towards the big white bus just around the corner. That's probably the spot where he ends the tour. "I don't want my boss to give me a lecture for inviting a non-paying passenger aboard."

"Sure, of course. Thanks for the ride." I say with a smile as he gives me a smile.

"You're very welcome." He replies. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Really?" I hesitate. "Isn't it supposed to rain tomorrow?"

"Aah, see, I'm here whatever the weather."

"You're committed."

He rubs his thumb and middle finger together. "No, I'm broke." He steps away. "See you later, southern girl."

I grin. "It's Miley."

"Don't care. Southern Girl sounds way cooler."

"What's your name?" I call after him.

"You decide!" He smirks.

I smile, feeling oddly relaxed with this stranger. "I'm thinking...that guy from LMFAO."

"SkyBlu?"

"After Skyblu."

"_Skyblu_?!" He exclaims.

"From LMFAO, yes."

"I know who that is." He snaps. "I assume you think about the men not the stage name..."

I shrug. "You really look like him."

He looks disgruntled. "I think his name is Skylar something. And by the way he's twenty-seven."

"Well you look like a younger and more innocent version, then. How he looked like a few years ago."

"I'm nineteen!"

"Eight years time, then."

He looks mortally offended and I can't help but to laugh. "You asked for it."

"Oh to hell with that. My name is Joe."

I giggle. "Too late, I'm sticking with Skyblu."

He rolls his eyes, "See you tomorrow, Southern girl." He waves his left hand before I see his figure disappear into the crowd of his tourists. I smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

It's only when they disappear from my sight that I realise I haven't thought of Nick for the last twenty minutes. That's a new record.

* * *

**A/N:** I really hope this was not disappointing...I want to hear your thoughts...Do you like Joe? When do you think Selena enters the picture? Do you like where this story is heading? P.S, I'm updating when I reach 15 reviews. xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

I do return to the down side of the river at the same time next day. The rain has held off, although the sky is dark blue and miserable.

"You actually came!" I hear his voice before I see his figure. Today, he's wearing a green shirt with dark blue jeans. Magically it looks really good on him. I look around us only to spot a small group of tourists staring at Joe. That must be his group.

"You're almost empty today!" I shout back as he leads the group of tourists towards me. There must be only a handful, not more than ten.

"It's a bit quiet," he waves me over.

"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask as I step beside him. "You're not going to get into trouble, are you?"

"Never. It's not like I've got anything else to do. As long as I'm back at the tourist office in time for my next tour in forty-five minutes, no one will give a shit."

We grin at each other.

"So, are you a freshman?" He asks.

I nod.

"What are you studying?"

"English Lit."

"Do you like it?"

"It's not bad..."

"Oh-oh," he shakes his head, "that does not sound promising."

"No, no," I smile, "I like it..." I try to convince him because I don't want to explain about Nick.

There I go again, thinking about him. Ugh. Miley stop.

"Oh just toss stupid college away and come be a tourist guide with me." He suggests offhandedly.

"Is it hard?" I ask with curiosity. I wonder what would be the feeling of being the leader of a group of people who depend on you.

"You want to try?" Before I have time to awknolegde what's happening, Joe turns toward the people behind us and shouts. "Miley here will be taking you on tour from now on. I'm going to step back in, she's a newcomer so please behave." He gives me a smile and steps into the small group.

I look at him, trying my best to shoot daggers into his eyes. Thanks Joe, _thanks_.

"We have forty minutes left, and we're still in the same spot!" an old man, already grumpy, ticks his watch. I shake my head. I'm not doing this.

No way in hell.

"C'mon," Joe says, "what have you got to lose?"

"My pride?" I place my arms over my chest. "I will never do this. Never."

Joe gives me a smirk, "You never know. You might surprise yourself."

* * *

It turns out Joe was right.

"Henry VIII was the king of England. Here is his home, the house he was literally born in." I point to my right. "And we can see the big rolling hills behind it, which he always used as an anegdote to interest his people. He always liked to say that he watched the sun fall behind those very hill, every night." I smile.

My tourists murmur with interest.

Yes, you read that right. _My_ tourists.

After the first time, and in case you're wondering - yes, Joe made me do an excursion for the rest of his time- anyway, after the first time I kind of just fell in love with it.

So here I am now, with a tour behind my back like I'm a mother duck and they are my ducklings, walking down the pathway along the river with stories about kings and queens who built castles here or who ruled England themselves.

A familiar dark-curly guy looms up ahead. I smile. "Afternoon," I say chirply as my group and I walk past them.

"Oi!" He calls after me, his brow furrowed because I've overtaken him.

"I see you've slowed down..." I joke.

"Too tired to care that the pupil has overgrown the teacher," he winks at me. "You up for a drink at the Anchor after work?"

That's a local pub on the river.

"Absolutely."

It's a sweltering afternoon when I breathe a sigh of relief and put the keys of churches and old houses and museums into the key's room. Today was a hard, but a very good day. A couple of tourists even tiped me generoulsy.

I wipe my arm across my brow. If it's this hot in May, I can't imagine what next month will be like. I've tied my hair up into a bun, but I can feel perspiration at the nape of my neck.

I step out into the sunlight and walk up to the pub. Tables and chairs butt up against the ropes on the pavement overlooking the river. Joe is already inside at the bar. He turns and flashes me a grin, before handing over what has now become my regular: a pint of lager.

I never thought I'd be a lager girl, I can tell you that much.

"Here you go, Southern Girl."

"Cheers, Skyblu."

Our nicknames have stuck. We chink glasses and each glug down a few mouthfuls. The bitter-tasting liquid hits the back of my throat and instantly cools me down from the inside out.

"Pretty full-on day, huh?" Joe comments.

"Just a bit."

"How many did you do?" He's reffering to tours.

"Six."

"Pansy," he teases.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I still haven't come close to touching your record, but I'm getting there."

He nudges me affectionately. "You don't do half bad, considering you're a little one."

A stool comes free at the bar. He passes it to me, then leans up against the wooden bar top. We always seem to find outselves standing up there until our pals arrive, and then more than often we relocate to a table, outside if we can find one.

"Thanks," I say for the stool. I'm desperate to sit down. "How's your student search coming along?" I ask. Las year, Joe's parents left the UK to go abroad for two and a half years. His dad is a lawyer at a top firm and they wante dhim to work in their Washington office for a while, so Joe's parents left him to look after the house with permission to rent out two of the bedrooms to students.

It worked well, but as both students were third years he needs to find a couple of new ones for September.

"Why don't you move in?" he asks casually, taking a sip of his lager and regarding me over the bim of his pint glass.

"Are you serious?" I ask, "You wouldn't want to live with me," I say dismissively.

"Sure I would."

"You work with me. You want to live with me too?"

"Why not? We could walk to work together."

"Commute together, as well? Why don't we get married and have to kids while we're at it?"

He makes a disgusted face. "Christ, what a thought."

"That was rude!" I try to act insulted but I can't keep a straight face. He grins and wraps his arm around my neck, before pressing his lips to the top of my head.

We have a very good relationship, Joe and I, but there's absolutely no sexual chemistry between us whatsoever. I couldn't have been friends with him if there was. I know he doesn't 'like' me in the slightest. And that's important to me.

I still love Nick.

I still miss Nick.

But Joe has been my saviour. He resuscitated me. I don't know what I would do without him.

"You're not going to get anywhere with Blondie if you keep doing that in front of her," I giggle before looking over his shoulder at the girl behind the bar. He's been making eyes at her for weeks. He grins and chinks my glass again.

I notice the blonde behind the bar glance our way and her brow furrows slightly. Maybe she does have the hots for Joe after all. Me being here is not going to help his cause, but I can't leave. I need him too much. I litterally shudder at the thought of losing him.

"You're not coming down with anything, are you?" he asks with concern, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.

"No, I'm fine," I change the subject. "Let's go see if the others are here?"

"Sure," he looks over at the bar girl, but she turns her back. I can't help but to feel guilty as he follows me out through the pub.

* * *

"No!" Joe shouts at Oliver, a tall, dark haired, good looking guy who's also a punter. "She doesn't need another one."

"Who are you, her father?" Oliver shouts back from the doorway. "Miley, what are you having?"

I wave him away and point to Joe, who's sitting to my left on a long bench seat. "No, he's right," I slur. "I should probably call it a night."

"Party breaker." Oliver mutters, turning to go inside.

We laft the Anchor a couple of hours ago and relocated to an Inn on the other side of the city, near our tourist office. We're sitting at a bench table in the courtyard.

"Aren't you coming clubbing?" Emily asks with disappointment from across the table. Emily works at the kiosk selling our tickets. She's pretty, a little taller than me with shoulder-lenght brown hair and blue eyes.

"It's a Thursday night." She moans at Joe, who's usually her most dependable drinking buddy.

"No, I'd better get Southern Girl home," Joe says, sliding out from the bench seat.

"I can manage." I try to stand up, but wobble dramatically. Joe puts his hands on my waist and lifts me clear of the top of Mike –another one of our friends-who's sitting on the other side of me.

"See you tomorrow," Joe calls to our mates, still half carrying me. He steers me through the old, narrow pub with it's dark wooden beams and low ceiling to the street exit.

"Bye." I say to Joe, who lives in the other direction.

"You're not walking home alone in this state," he snaps, pulling me back. "I think you'd better stay at mine."

"Again?" I groan. "Everyone already thinks you're my boyfriend."

"Never gonna happen."

I crash over at his all the time. I've never been able to bond with the students at my hall of residance, maybe because I was so broken when I went to live there. But even though I'm, well, I wouldn't say fixed, but certainly in a state of repair, I don't feel like I can suddenly fit in.

Joe has been here for me through this transformation. My fellow students put this down to him. Down to love. It doesn't matter enough to me to convince them otherwise. I tried once, but the girls teased me and didn't believe a word of it. They seem to want me to have found someone. I don't want to disappoint them.

* * *

Pancakes. Mmm.

I sleepily open my eyes the next morning to see that, as predicted, Joe is nowhere to so be seen. Which of course means only one thing.

Breakfast.

I'm in Joe's room at the front part of the house. He's been staying in the master since his parents left, and their king sized bed is more than big enough to comfortably house both of us.

I climb out of bed and drag on one of his T-Shirts, which comes almost to my knees as he's about a foot taller than me, and make my way downstairs.

"Morning," he says chirpily.

I collapse on a chair at the kitchen table. "I don't know how you do it." I say.

"Do what" He winks.

"How can you get wasted the night before and wake up feeling all cheery the next morning?"

He flips a pancake in the air. "What can I say? It's a talent." He leaves the pan on the stove and rushes towards me to pour me a cup of coffee.

"One of many." I smile at him.

"You're too kind," he winks again and dishes up two plates of pancakes. He places one plate in front of me, and the other on the opposite end of the table before he sits himself.

"I have a class this afternoon." I sigh.

"Ooh, that must be exciting." He says and I roll my eyes. He cannot for the life of him understand the attraction of my degree.

"I should get going soon, what's your schedule?" I carefully sip my coffee in case it's hot. It's not. Mmm there's even cream in it.

"Already?" he looks kind of disappointed. "I've got three tours today, and I think they're all in the afternoon."

I nod, "I really need to get back to do some reading." I tell him.

He shakes his head. "I don't know why you don't bring your books with you when you stay over."

"Are you kidding me? Did you see my Political Education textbook? It's like a small child!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He crosses his arms over his chest.

I smile at him sadly. "I'm going to miss you so much this summer."

His lips turn down. "Me too. I hate it when you studens bugger off for the holidays."

"I'm not looking forward to leaving, either.."I reply. "I don't know what I'm going to do for three months." Being away from Joe, away from studies, away from the tours...Having to live at home with my parents after almost a year of independence...

The truth is I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'll end up looking for Nick again. London is where he is. Where he said he would be. I'll spend long, heartbreaking days going on a wild-goose chase, looking for someone who doesn't want to be found.

To be honest, I don't know if I'm strong enough to endure the pain when I don't find him.

"You know, you don't have to go home..." Joe says thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"You could stay here."

"Are you still banging on about me living with you?" I tease. "Just because you can't be arsed to advertise..."

"You wouldn't even have to pay rent," he continues.

"Of course I would pay rent!" I exclaim.

"Not for the summer. I wouldn't be getting rent from anyone else until September."

"My parents wouldn't be too impressed if I didn't go home..."

It's a tempting thought, though, considering how upset I still am with dad for letting Nick leave.

"Think about it," Joe says simply.

"Okay, I will."

* * *

A/N: Okay I'd like to start off with the fact that I got 20 reviews on the last chapter which is absolutely amazing! I'm still in shock to be honest and I couldn't be more happy. Thank you from the bottom of my heart you guys. To pay you back, I'm uploading (late I know) but the truth is a thunder hit near my house and we lost Wi-Fi so I'm uploading via my smartphone – so I'm sorry for all grammar mistakes or if the chapter is not looking right. Thirdly and lastly, can you guys do me a favor? Could you please follow me on instagram and like my pictures? That's be really sweet of you guys. My username is: lorena_1306


End file.
